


Fear the Edge of Dawn

by Actually_Bernadetta



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom My Unit | Byleth, Crimson Flower, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Top Edelgard von Hresvelg, Useless Lesbians, disaster bis, seriously this fic is so gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actually_Bernadetta/pseuds/Actually_Bernadetta
Summary: A young mercenary named Byleth Eisner finds herself thrust into a teaching position at Garreg Mach Monastery. As she grows closer to the students in the Black Eagle house, she discovers things about herself and her world that will shake her to her core.Edeleth, Edelthea, and more! This is the first fic I've ever posted to AO3 and I'm so excited about it!
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Dorothea Arnault/My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Original Character(s), Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Sylvain Jose Gautier, My Unit | Byleth/Original Character(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	1. An Inevitable Encounter, An Inevitable Choice

Byleth’s dream was familiar; two massive armies clashed on a rain and blood soaked field, cavalry troops crashed into foot soldiers, with pegasus knights and wyvern riders dueling in the skies above them. 

The chaos of the battlefield was eclipsed by pillars of light falling from the heavens, causing massive explosions that decimated both armies alike. In the newly cleared field, the two leaders squared off, seemingly unaware of the carnage surrounding them. 

They couldn’t have been more different: a regal, green haired, lithe woman wielding a shield and rapier, and an unhinged, shirtless, giant of a main wielding a viciously serrated sword with a glowing stone buried in its hilt. 

Around them, the fighting slowed as each army looked to its general for guidance. Still wrapped in a world consisting of only herself and her opponent, the woman ran at the man, her sandals slapping in the muck, a steely look of determination on her face. The man simply threw his head back and bellowed a laugh, before flicking his blade to the side, revealing it to be capable of elongating into a whip of bladed segments. 

They met in the middle of a crater, oblivious to the gore and corpses littered across the field, blades clanging together with enough force to send shockwaves out from their clash. Back and forth they went, each pressing the other for an advantage, searching for an opening.

With a flick of his transforming sword, the man wrapped his weapon around his opponent’s, seeking to disarm her. Instead of fighting his pull, the woman stabbed her blade into the ground and charged her foe, managing to cross the distance inside his reach before he could retract his blade.

With a roar, he threw his sword aside and swung a fist the size of the woman’s head. The blow looked as if could take her head clean off, but she blocked it with a raised forearm with a strength belied by her stature. Their fistfight was short but brutal, with each fighter trading blows that would’ve cracked bones on a normal opponent. Finally, the woman landed a kick to the man’s chin that knocked him backwards into the blood and mud. Kneeling over him, the woman drew a dagger and looked into his wild eyes.

“Tell me Nemesis,” she said, voice pitched so low it was almost a growl. “Do you recall the Red Canyon? You’ll die for that! Die! Die!” With each word she plunged her knife into his chest, tearing it to ribbons and draining the life from him. “You took...everything...that I loved!” She looked down at her bloodstained hands and stepped back from the corpse.

Retrieving his sword, she cradled it to her cheek, smearing blood across her face. 

“He’s gone now, mother. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

The battlefield faded, the dream resolving into a cavernous room, empty save for a stone throne atop a raised dais. As always, the throne was occupied by a young girl, dressed in a style Byleth had never seen, with the same light green hair as the woman from earlier in her dream. 

“I wonder how you got in here,” the girl said, her tone a mixture of curiosity and irritation. “It is most rude to interrupt a moment of repose. Very rude indeed.” She looked up and met Byleth’s confused stare. “Now come to me. I wish to have a look at you.”

Byleth slowly climbed the stairs to the dias, stopping in front of the throne, and shivered as the girl took her in with a gaze that suggested an intelligence far beyond her youthful appearance. She wondered what this mysterious girl thought of her frumpled appearance, her wavy blue-green hair matted from a restless night, her blue eyes wide in the confusion of the dream. 

“Hmm,” the girl said. “I have not seen the likes of you before. Who are you, anyway?”

It never mattered what answer Byleth gave, the girl would always chastise her for her wit until she admitted to being just a mortal. Tonight, Byleth cut straight to the point. 

“I’m a mortal,” she said, her voice echoing in this strange chamber. “My name is Byleth.”

“Huh. I shall not ever grow accustomed to the sound of human names. You must possess a day of birth as well. Beneath what moon and on what day were you born into this world?”

Byleth briefly considered lying, choosing a random date solely to see what the girl would say. Some strange feeling in her gut made her reconsider, and she decided that honesty was the best policy with ethereal beings that visited her in her sleep. 

“I was born on the twenty-first day of the fifth month, Harpstring Moon.”

“Well, wonders never cease! It seems we share our day of birth.”

_Sure. That’s how dreams work, isn’t it?_

“How strange!” the girl continued. “Hmm. It all feels so...familiar.” She paused to yawn, seeming every bit the young girl except for everything about her. “I think it may be time for yet another nap...it is almost...time to begin…”

The throne room faded just as the battlefield had, and Byleth knew from past experience she’d soon wake. 

The dream ended as it always did, with a confusing rush of places and people all blending together in an unintelligible blur. With a gasp, Byleth Eisner sat up in her cot, glancing around in a near panic before recognizing the tent she shared with her father and leader of their mercenary company, Jeralt Eisner. 

The dream was already fading, leaving behind only the faintest memories: a flash of bright green hair, a cruel sword, and the red, red, red of far too much blood. Byleth rolled out of bed and quickly dressed in her traveling clothes: tall boots, comfortable leggings, a lightly armored coat, and a half cape bearing the symbol of their company, a stitched knot resembling the petals of a flower. 

The movement of getting dressed served to put the dream further from her mind, and her earlier panic was nearly forgotten when Jeralt pushed his way into their tent. 

“Hey, time to wake up,” he said in his gruff voice, hardened from years of travel and battle. Byleth thought for a moment that she didn’t look like his daughter: his ruddy hair and beard so different from her own teal locks. But, she supposed, she’d never known her mother, so perhaps she took after her. Besides, Jeralt had raised her, taken care of her, and taught her to fight and survive. That alone made him a father as far as she was concerned. 

Her moment of introspection was mistaken by Jeralt, who stumbled onto another truth instead. 

“Were you having that dream again?” he said, voice a touch softer than earlier. Though Byleth didn’t often speak of her feelings with her father, the close quarters of their tent precluded keeping recurring nightmares a secret. 

Byleth nodded and considered how much to tell him. Though they’d briefly spoken about her dreams before, she’d never mentioned the girl in the second half of it, instinctively keeping her existence to herself, as if she were a secret that would be stripped away from her if she ever told anyone about her. 

“I was dreaming about the war again,” she said, sticking to the script she’d developed after the first time her father had found her shaking in her sleep, and waking in a cold sweat. 

Jeralt nodded, knowing his lines even if he didn’t know he was reading from a script. “Massive armies clashing on a vast field, right? There hasn’t been a battle like that in over three centuries. In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts. I need you sharp out there, or you’ll end up getting someone killed.”

Byleth nodded, used to her father’s blunt statements about their way of life as traveling mercenaries. 

“Time to get moving,” Jeralt said. “Our next job is in the Kingdom. It’s far from here, so we need to get moving as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” she said. Constant travel was a fact of life; everything Byleth owned could fit in one pack and a saddlebag. 

Before Jeralt could comment further, a harried looking young mercenary entered their tent, clearly uncomfortable at being in his leader’s private space. 

“Jeralt, sir!” he said. “Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed outside!”

“What’s happened?”

“There’s no time, sir! Please, come quickly.”

With a glance at his daughter, Jeralt followed the mercenary out of their tent and into the camp they’d set up just outside Remire village. Byleth buckled her sword belt around her waist and followed. 

A curious sight awaited her in the central clearing: two young men and a young woman, near to Byleth’s own age, wearing some sort of uniform far too fancy for mucking around a frontier village. One of the men had dark hair and an easy smile, but his shrewd eyes made Byleth nervous. He carried a longbow over his shoulder, with a quiver slung across his back. His uniform featured a gold half cape. 

The other young man had blond hair and piercing blue eyes, but with none of the sly look of his companion. He carried a lance with an iron blade, and looked like he could swing it as easily as Byleth hefted her one handed sword. His uniform had a full cape in a rich royal blue. 

_How does he fight in a full cape? Doesn’t it get tangled in his lance and—oh my goddess!_

Her tactical analysis of the young man’s fashion sense was interrupted when she glanced at the third new arrival, a refined, beautiful young woman with hair like snow and eyes like lavender. Her uniform had a scarlet half cape and a complicated looking ruff at her throat, and she hefted an iron axe with no visible effort. 

Byleth hid a shiver as the young woman coolly met her stare. 

_Her eyes are such a gorgeous color, I could almost drown in them and—dammit get your head together!_

Byleth gave the girl a nod, and her heart would’ve skipped a beat as she returned it had she ever possessed a pulse. Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away and refocused on her father, forcing herself into the blank headspace she assumed before every battle. 

It seems she’d missed the introductions, and she quickly began paying closer attention to the conversation.

“Please, forgive our intrusion,” the blond boy said in a strong voice that carried across the camp. “We wouldn’t bother you were the situation not dire.”

“What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?” Jeralt asked, ignoring that he had just woken up his own kid at this hour. 

“We’re being pursued by a group of bandits,” the young man answered, apparently the spokesperson for his little group. “I can only hope you’ll be so kind as to lend your support.” 

The mercenaries who had gathered to listen to the strangers murmured amongst themselves. Bandits were usually a bad sign this close to a village, but for them the promise of a fight meant the promise of gold. 

Jeralt stroked his scruffy beard in thought- he hadn’t received word of any bandits in the area, but the party of strangers in front of him seemed sincere, and sincerely worried. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“It’s true,” said the white haired girl. “They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp.”

_Even her voice is beautiful. I wonder if she sings? Dammit, why can’t I focus?_

“We’ve been separated from our companions,” said the dark haired boy. His voice was smooth, matching the cleverness and spark of humor in his eyes. “We’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives, not to mention our gold.”

Jeralt cast an appraising glance over the trio, taking in their well maintained weapons and the ease with which they carried them. “I’m impressed you’re staying so calm, given the situation. What...that uniform…”

Whatever he had noticed was quickly lost to commotion as one of their scouts raced into clearing. “Bandits! Spotted just outside the village! Damn, there are a lot of them.”

“I guess they followed you all the way here,” Jeralt said. “We can’t abandon this village now. Come on, let’s move!” He glanced at Byleth, who straightened under his gaze and tried to look as if she hadn’t been staring at the strange trio. “Hope you’re ready,” he said.

Byleth nodded and rested a hand on the pommel of her sword. Jeralt began shouting orders to his men, ordering them to split up and flank the bandit party. Byleth turned back to the trio to see that the young woman had stepped closer and was eyeing her curiously. 

“My name is Edelgard,” she said. “You have a strange aura about you...you say you’re a mercenary, so show me what you can do.”

Byleth managed a nod, which she thought was very impressive given the circumstances. As Edelgard stepped past her to follow Jeralt, her companions stepped forward to introduce themselves as well. 

“My name is Dimitri,” the blond one said. “We are in your debt. It wouldn’t do for us to fall in a place like this. Please, lend us your strength. Let’s work together to drive out these thieves!”

“And last but not least, I’m Claude,” the other boy said. “It’s because of you guys that I’m not dead right now. Thanks for that! I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods of fortune must be smiling on me!”

With a roguish grin, he nocked an arrow to his bow and glanced at Jeralt, who had finished giving orders to the rest of the company. 

“Cut the chatter,” he said. “Let’s take care of these thrives before they overrun the village. Take down the enemies in front first. That’ll give us a clear shot at their leader. Kill him, and it’ll take the wind out of their sails.”

Byleth and her new allies nodded, drew their weapons, and headed for the forest at the edge of camp. Jeralt swing himself onto his warhorse, Blackjack, and readied his lance. 

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said to his daughter. “You know what to do, but try to keep these brats alive, will you? They’re more important than they let on.”

Byleth nodded and glanced again at her companions. They all seemed relatively comfortable with the idea of entering a life or death battle, though Dimitri seemed almost hungry for the fight whereas Edelgard seemed simply indifferent. Byleth couldn’t tell what Claude was thinking, but he grinned at her as they entered the woods and approached the attacking bandits. 

Jeralt rode past them on Blackjack, heading for a cluster of thieves approaching through the trees to their right. “Stay in the forest,” he called out. “It’ll give you cover from their archers, if they have any. Remember what I taught you, Byleth, and stay together!” As he rode off to assist some of his men, Byleth and the others engaged the thieves directly in front of them. 

As was always the case when she fought a real battle, Byleth quickly forgot about everything but her next target. Whatever these thieves knew about fighting, it paled in comparison to a lifetime of training under her father. She danced from bandit to bandit, sword flashing through blocks, parries, and strikes, attention always on the next bandit the moment her current opponent fell. 

In the back of her mind, she knew she was killing some of these people, but she didn’t let herself stop to think about it. She could mourn and do her penance after she survived the fight. Felling the last of her foes with a clever feint and a slash across his chest, she paused to catch her breath and assess how her new allies were doing. 

Claude was hanging back from the group, firing arrow after arrow into the crowd of bandits, staying well away from their blades. Satisfied that he wasn’t in any immediate danger, she turned to find Dimitri and saw him tearing through his own cluster of thieves, their light leather armor no match for the raw power he put behind each swing and thrust of his lance. Byleth half expected the shaft to shatter every time he made contact, such was the strength of his blows. 

She turned last to find Edelgard, and the breath she had just regained caught in her throat. The girl was spinning easily through the fight, wielding her heavy axe with a mix of Claude’s precision and Dimitri’s power that looked more appropriate for a sword fighter than the brute force Byleth had come to associate with axe wielders. 

The last bandit Edelgard faced was an archer, and she couldn’t close the distance in time to stop him from loosing his arrow. It knocked the axe from Edelgard’s grip, and Byleth knew she wouldn’t be able to reach her in time to save her from the next shot. 

She should’ve known better after watching this girl fight. Edelgard abandoned her axe and drew a dagger from her belt, drawing her arm back and flinging it at her opponent in one smooth motion. The archer fell with a blade through his heart, and the white haired girl let her mask slip long enough to grace Byleth with a smile that almost made her drop her sword. 

As Claude and Dimitri cleaned up the bandits who hadn’t fallen in the initial assault, Byleth looked around for her father and found him facing down a brute with an axe who had to be the bandits’ leader. 

“Aren’t you Jeralt the Blade Breaker?” the thief said, sounding shocked. “What’s a knight like you doing here?”

_Blade Breaker? I’ve never heard anyone call him that before. And he’s a mercenary, not some pompous knight!_

“I’m the one who should be complaining,” her father answered the bandit leader. “I’m caught up in the mess you started.”

Byleth groaned to herself. Her father had never been very good at trash talk. Jeralt made quick work of the brute, who’s axe couldn’t get within the reach of Jeralt’s lance from atop Blackjack. 

She finally allowed herself to relax when the surviving thieves started to flee, and her lapse in focus made her to slow to react to the bandit chief regaining his feet and charging at the now unarmed Edelgard. 

Byleth’s world shrank to a tunnel between her and Edelgard, and time seemed to slow down as she sprinted across the field, knowing she wouldn’t reach the girl in time to deflect the axe stroke. 

Her body made the decision faster than her mind could react to, and she threw herself between the bandit and Edelgard, trying in vain to bring her sword around in time. 

The axe tore into her back, sending a lance of molten pain through her body. Byleth had been stabbed before, but she’d never felt anything this painful. She could feel in slow motion every inch the axe dug into the muscle and bone of her back, and was intensely aware of Edelgard’s lilac eyes meeting hers for a split second before everything froze. 

Suddenly, the pain that had become her entire existence vanished, and she saw herself as if through another’s eyes. The bandit’s axe had buried itself deeper in her back than she could possibly survive, but she saw all this as a dispassionate observer. She turned, and saw the battlefield frozen in time, unnaturally still to the point that arrows hovered in the air, stopped by some unseen force from reaching their targets. 

“Honestly!” Byleth turned again and found herself in the cavernous throne room from her dream, complete with an indignant green haired, pointy eared little girl sitting on the throne. “What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?” the girl continued. “It's like you’re trying to get me killed, you fool!”

She leaned back against her throne with a huff, waiting for Byleth to speak. “I don’t understand,” the mercenary said. 

“That much is clear! Well, it’s fine. After all, if you don’t know the value of your own life you’re not going to protect it very well, are you? ‘Course not. I suppose it’s left to me to guide you from now on, right? Fine. You can call me Sothis...but I am also known as ‘The Beginning’.” 

“You were in my dream,” Byleth said. “Am I dead? This isn’t what I thought it would feel like.”

“Think about dying often, do you? That wasn’t a dream, it was me trying to reach out to you. You’re so thick-headed I could only do it in your sleep, until now. And you’re not dead. I stopped the hands of time before the axe could finish its stroke.”

Byleth was sure she was dead. “You...stopped the hands of time?”

“Yes, you dolt! Do you think me some helpless child? That ‘child’ just saved your life. What does that make you?”

Byleth felt as she did when she had once taken a blow to the head during training and suffered a concussion. Everything was foggy and her thoughts were moving far too slowly to keep up with this strange child. 

“I am...less than a child?” she asked, attempting to recover some of her wits. 

“Correct! I am so glad you understand. Do you also understand why you cannot throw yourself before an axe to save just one young girl? Had I not intervened, the axe would have cleaved you in two and you would be dead right now.”

“So...I am not dead?”

Sothis slapped a palm against her forehead. “I see I shall have my work cut out for me with this one. Have you no gratitude for me saving your life?”

Byleth flushed, her embarrassment finally breaking through the fog that had clouded her mind. She bowed to this strange girl on her throne. “Thank you for saving my life. I am in your debt.”

“And don’t you forget it! But now what to do about your situation...when I allow the hands of time to resume their course, you will surely bleed to death in the arms of the very girl you tried so foolishly to save.”

_And what a way to go that would be!_

“If you could stop the flow of time, could you not also perhaps reverse it?” This seemed to Byleth to be as logical as anything else about this strange encounter, but Sothis shot up from her chair as if she’d never even considered the idea. 

“Of course! I must turn back the hands of time!”

 _That’s what I just said!_ Byleth was feeling unappreciated at this point. Had she not done a heroic thing, sacrificing herself to save Edelgard? Sothis was acting as if she had gotten herself killed to save a cat. Which, to Byleth’s reasoning, as just as heroic. 

“Yes, I do believe it can be done,” Sothis continued, unaware or uncaring of Byleth’s inner monologue about the worthiness of cats. “You really are quite troublesome. I cannot wind time back too far, but all is well. You are aware of what’s to come, which means you can protect yourself this time, and that girl if she means so much to you. Now go...yes, you who bears the flames within. Drift through the flow of time to find the answers you seek…”

Before Byleth could ask about the flame she supposedly carried, Sothis raised her hands and a brilliant glyph of light appeared in front of her, like the ones Byleth had seen mages draw but infinitely brighter and more powerful. 

She felt herself being pulled away from this mysterious place, and a bright flash from the throne caused her to flinch away and shut her eyes. When they reopened, she found herself back on the battlefield outside Remire village, just after her father had ostensibly dispatched the bandit leader. 

Without pausing to reflect on how strange her day had gotten, she drew her sword and sprinted towards Edelgard. With the forewarning she now had, she reached the surprised girl in plenty of time to deflect the bandit’s axe and send him flying into the dirt. Perhaps too much time, as Byleth ignored the fleeing thief to find Edelgard staring at her with a shocked look in her eyes. 

Before the snowy haired girl could voice her thoughts, Claude called out from where he and Dimitri had regrouped with Jeralt. “Hey, over here!”

Byleth nodded to Edelgard, not trusting herself to speak after everything that had just occurred, and walked over to her father. 

Before the group could celebrate their victory, a new voice rang over the field, loud and far too jovial for the grisly scene the owner had happened upon. “The Knights of Seiros are here! We’ll cut you down for terrorizing our students! Hey, wait! The thieves are running away!” The armored figure waved his fellow knights after the fleeing bandits, and marched across the battlefield as if it were a parade ground towards Jeralt. 

“Why him?” Byleth’s father groaned. She shot a questioning look at Jeralt, but he shook his head, a sure sign that any conversation would happen later, if at all. 

The boisterous knight had reached their party, revealing a fine cape adorning his polished armor and a rather unfashionable mustache adorning his grinning face. “Captain Jeralt?” he said. “It is you! Goodness, it’s been ages. Don’t you recognize me? It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man. Well, that’s how I always thought of myself, anyway. It must have been twenty years ago that you went missing without a trace! I always knew you were still alive.”

Her father shook his head before shaking Alois’ offered hand. “You haven’t changed a bit, Alois. Just as loud as ever. And drop that Captain nonsense, would you? I’m not your captain anymore. I’m just a wandering mercenary these days, and one who has work to do. Good-bye, old friend.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Alois was actually going to let them go with no further protest, until he recovered his wits and exclaimed, “Wait a minute! That can’t be how this ends. Captain, I insist you return to the monastery with me and the students.”

“I thought I told you to drop the title, Alois. But, I suppose this was inevitable. Back to Garreg Mach Monastery after all these years.”

For the first time, Alois seemed to notice Byleth standing in her father’s shadow. “And how about you, kid?” he said. “Are you the captain’s child?”

Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the battle, or the relief at feeling herself nearly die and walking away unscathed, but Byleth flashed a rare smile and let her wit out to play. “Actually, I’m a bandit!”

Alois threw his head back and bellowed with laughter. “Great sense of humor, this one. Clearly cut from the same cloth as the captain. I’d love for you to see the monastery too. You will join me, won’t you?”

Byleth, who had never gone anywhere in her life without her father, simply nodded. Next to her, Jeralt sighed, clearly in deep contemplation about something. 

“What’s wrong, Captain?” Alois asked. “Not going to run off again, are you?”

“Even I wouldn’t dare run from the Knights of Seiros.”

Alois and her father walked off to gather the mercenaries and discuss plans for traveling to the monastery, wherever that was, and Byleth was left standing on her own. 

“The Knights of Seiros...they do seem rather skilled.” Sothis’ voice came from within her mind, and Byleth nearly dropped her sword for the second time that day. 

“Ah, it seems your presence is required. Get going.”

Byleth stumbled over to the waiting trio of students, wondering at how much stranger this day was going to get. 

Once she had joined their circle, Edelgard met her eyes with a steady gaze. “I appreciate your help back there. You moved so fast it seemed as if you had started towards me before the bandit did. Without your help I would surely be dead; your skill is without question. And your father, that would be Jeralt, the Blade Breaker? Former captain of the Knights of Seiros, oft praised as the strongest knight to ever live. Have I missed anything?”

Byleth was captivated by that lilac stare, and could only reply dumbly, “He never told me he was a knight.”

Edelgard raised one snowy brow. “How curious. I’d wager the explanation for that is fascinating indeed.”

She held Byleth’s gaze for a moment longer, before Claude broke into the silence that was quickly becoming awkward. “Hey! You’re coming with us to the monastery, right? Of course you are. I’d love to bend your ear as we travel. I’m sure a worldly mercenary like yourself has stories we lowly students would love to hear.”

His tone was easy, even jovial, though there was a glint in his eyes that made Byleth wonder if he was searching for more than just a good traveling story. “We were doing some training exercises for the Officer’s Academy at the monastery when those bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.”

Edelgard huffed a laugh, which Byleth was beginning to understand was an outburst of emotion for her. “That would be because you ran off, Claude.”

Claude shrugged off the veiled insult with another of his easy grins. “Too true! I was the first to make a strategic retreat. Everything would’ve worked out if these two hadn’t followed me and ruined everything. Because of them, every single one of those bandits chased after us. Utterly ridiculous.” 

Dimitri scoffed, making no effort to hide his scorn for Claude’s shifty humor. “So that’s what you were thinking, Claude. And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.” 

Edelgard smirked from Claude’s other side. “His intentions were as clear as day. You will prove a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person's words.” 

Dimitri glared at her, shooting back, “You will prove a lacking ruler if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on.”

Claude rolled his eyes conspiratorially at Byleth, shaking his head. “Oh joy, a royal debate between Their Highnesses. I wonder how being completely predictable affects one’s ability to wield power.” 

_Highnesses? Wielding power? Just who did we rescue?_

“Personally, as the embodiment of distrust, I’d say your little exchange smacks of naivete.” Claude seemed to take pride in being able to piss off both Dimitri and Edelgard at the same time. 

Edelgard was not nearly as amused. “Me? Naive? Tell me, are you actually incapable of keeping quiet, or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?

Byleth was feeling a strange combination of feeling left out and being glad Edelgard’s ire wasn’t being directed at her. Dimitri noticed her discomfort and gallantly attempted to steer the conversation towards a different topic. 

“Forgive my companions’ digression, but I must speak with you, if you can spare a moment. The way you held your ground against the bandits’ leader was captivating! You never lost control of the situation. It showed me I still have much to learn.”

Byleth fidgeted with her sword belt, not used to such direct praise. Edelgard took the pause as an opening to regain control of the conversation. 

“Your skill is precisely why I must ask you to consider lending your services to the Empire. I might as well tell you now, I am no mere student. I am also the Adrestian Empire’s--”

Dimitri spoke over her, silencing her in a way she was clearly unused to. “Halt, Edelgard. Please allow me to finish my own proposition. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals such as yourself. Please, do consider returning to the Kingdom with me.”

_Do they think me a servant, to be so easily swayed? I may be a commoner, but I’ve been earning my keep longer than they’ve been wielding weapons I’d wager._

Claude looked between the two royals, noting the increasing tension and Byleth’s indignation. Always quick to smooth things over, he threw an arm around Dimitri and Edelgard’s shoulders. Neither of them looked very pleased with this development. 

“Woah, there you two. Trying to recruit someone you just met? I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for favors.” 

Edelgard shrugged off his arm with barely contained disgust. “Your glibness does you no credit, Claude. But I suppose in this rare instance you do have a point. My eagerness to secure your talents for the Empire is no excuse to forget my manners. Let’s start again. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, capable stranger?”

Byleth nodded at her, relieved at being back in a familiar type of conversation. “My name is Byleth Eisner. As you already ascertained, Jeralt Eisner is my father.”

“And tell me, Byleth Eisner, has your allegiance already been pledged to one of Fodlan’s three great nations?”

Something about Edelgard’s captivating gaze made it hard for Byleth to answer even a simple question. Swallowing to clear her throat, she held the eye contact and spoke as if reciting a passage from a text. “My allegiance is to my father. But I did grow up in Adrestia. I’ve never even been to the Leicester Alliance.”

Edelgard seemed pleased, which to Byleth seemed like a pleasant bonus to a rather lackluster answer. “A wise choice,” the princess said. “Though the Empire has fallen from its former glory, the other regions are merely offshoots that pale in comparison.”

Claude and Dimitri grumbled at the dismissal of their lands, but any further argument was forestalled by the return of Alois and Jeralt. “Alright, that’s enough with the small talk,” the knight said. It’s time to head back to the monastery.” 

Claude glared at Edelgard, the most direct expression of anything other than witty humor Byleth had seen from him so far. “I guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time.” 

The three students headed off to saddle and mount their horses, as the monastery was too far away to be reached within the day on foot. As Byleth made to follow, Sothis spoke up again in her mind. Thankfully, the trio was too far away to notice her stumble in surprise.

“My, my. They are in such a hurry. You know...each of the three is most unique.” 

_Edelgard is captivating. She’s beautiful in the way a polished sword is beautiful. Attractive, but dangerous. And it always seems as though she’s evaluating me.”_

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised to hear you so lovestruck by her after watching you throw yourself on a blade for her, but you sound every bit the fool.”

Byleth flushed, and then found herself wondering how exactly Sothis was keeping an eye on things from what she could only assume was inside her head. Instead of an answer, she was met with an enormous yawn.

“I am so sleepy once again...I may be sleeping...but I…”

And then nothing. She was alone with her thoughts again. Shaking her head as if to dislodge the mysterious girl, she hurried after the others and mounted a borrowed mare. 

Though the ride to the monastery would only take a day, Byleth quickly found herself growing bored with the monotonous ride through the forest in the north of the Adrestian Empire. Trusting her mare to follow the others’ horses, she closed her eyes and let herself drift back to when she was a child, and heard her father’s voice teaching her about Fodlan and the different seasons it had. The moon they were currently in was the Great Tree Moon, and Byleth could hear the fondness in her memory of Jeralt talking about this first month of spring.

 _“The icy winds of the_ _Oghma Mountains_ _have begun to scatter, and the verdant fields once again spring to life across_ _Fódlan_ _, heralding the start of a new year. As they celebrate the dawning year, the people pray that they may realize their full potential, just as a tiny sprout hopes to one day grow into a great tree.”_

The memory shifted to Jeralt teaching her about the different ruling powers of Fodlan, to prepare her for a life of mercenary work in the service of different crowns. 

_“The continent of Fódlan, said to be protected by a revered goddess, has existed since time immemorial. Three ruling powers now control the land. In the south lies a region long held by a more than one-thousand-year-old dynasty–the_ _Adrestian Empire_ _. Beyond its borders, to the frigid north, is the home of the_ _Holy Kingdom of Faerghus_ _, ruled by the royal family and its knights. To the east, a league of nobles that heeds no king or emperor rules what is called the_ _Leicester Alliance_ _. Once consumed by a tempest of war and turmoil, Fódlan and these three mighty powers now exist in relative harmony.”_

She was startled out of her memories by a light tap on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw one of the soldiers who had accompanied Alois, a young redheaded woman, looking at her with some concern.

“Hiya, just checking in. You looked about ready to fall out of your saddle there.” Her eyes were a deep green, and wide enough in their concern that Byleth almost laughed. Schooling her emotions into the blank mask she wore when meeting people for the first time, she shook her head.

“Just bored with the endless forest.”

“I can understand that. I normally ride a pegasus, and I can tell you the sky is much more exciting. But, Alois wanted everyone on the ground for the rescue mission. Said we wouldn’t be able to see the students from above the canopy.” She offered a hand for Byleth to shake, completely at ease riding side saddle so she could face Byleth. “I’m Soren, by the way.”

Byleth shook the girl’s hand, marveling at the fact that she looked younger than she herself was. “My name is Byleth. Have you been with the Knights of Seiros very long?” 

Soren laughed, a musical sound that reminded Byleth of birdsong. “I’m not actually a Knight, just a mercenary like you and your father. I was raised at the monastery though, so I tend to work with the Knights quite a bit.” 

“Are your parents with the Church?”

“If I ever meet them I’ll let you know.” She held up a hand, silencing the apology already forming on Byleth’s lips. “Don’t worry, you didn’t know. And it wasn’t bad being raised at the monastery. With all the Knights around teaching me to ride and fly, it was like having a whole bunch of parents.” 

Byleth nodded, regarding her young traveling companion with new eyes. “I never knew my mother. She died just after I was born. I’ve been with my father’s mercenary company my whole life, so I imagine we had similar upbringings.”

Soren smiled, wrinkling her upturned nose. “I’d imagine so! I look forward to hearing more, but I’m afraid I can see Alois waving to me. I’d best go see what he wants. Good to meet you, Byleth.” 

Byleth watched as the girl flicked her reins, cantering away towards the front of their convoy. As she went, she swung her legs around the saddle so she was riding backwards, and gave her a jaunty wave before swinging back around to the front and whispering something in her horse’s ear. 

Realizing she was staring, Byleth shook her head and was spared having to find something else to look at by Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard riding up alongside her. Dimitri is the first to break the silence, as straightforward as ever. 

“This will be your first time at the monastery. I’d be happy to show you around.”

Claude laughs, but there isn’t much mirth in it. “It really is Fodlan in a nutshell. The good and the bad.”

Edelgard shook her head. “Like it or not, we’ll be there soon enough.”

The group finally broke through the edge of the forest, and the view waiting for them took Byleth’s breath away. A clean path led from the forest up a hill, where it ended at a massive stone wall, with a gate complete with portcullis and armored guards. 

A little way further up the hill, a second, smaller wall stood with its gate staggered from the first. Byleth nodded to herself as she took in the fortifications with a practiced eye, this would not be an easy place to assault. 

The true spectacle, however, was the collection of buildings the walls were protecting. Massive stone structures covered the hill, fancilly built in an imposing architectural style. Even from down here, Byleth could see the grandest structure was an enormous cathedral, with stained glass windows and the crest of the Church of Seiros emblazoned on the stone wall. 

In her years with Jeralt’s mercenary company, Byleth had traveled all across the Empire and the Kingdom. She had never seen such a grand collection of buildings as this.

_This is the headquarters of the Church? It must be bigger than the Imperial Palace!_

Edelgard glanced over at her with a knowing smile. “Garreg Mach Monastery. Even now that I live there, it remains an imposing sight.”

The journey up the hill was a mix of Byleth analyzing the tactical advantages of the monastery and Byleth straining her neck trying to see everything. As they rode through the main gate, she pulled her borrowed mare up beside Jeralt and Blackjack to find him staring up at a woman on a balcony attached to a tower next to the Cathedral. From this distance, all Byleth could see of her was a flash of grass green hair ( _the same color as Sothis’)_ but Jeralt seemed to have no problem recognizing her.

“Rhea’s here,” he practically growled. Byleth had never seen her father so angry as he looked when he saw this Rhea. It unnerved her to the point where she missed the others coming to a stop, and nearly ran her mare into a poor stable hand. Glancing around, she realized that, of course, it was time to dismount and enter the monastery proper. Handing her mount over to the stable hand she’d nearly run over, she saw Soren running into the stable and hugging a pegasus, which oddly enough hugged her back by enfolding her in its wings. 

There was so much to see in this place that she was disappointed when Alois swept her and Jeralt into the main building. Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri waved as they parted ways with the knights and headed into a courtyard. Byleth found herself wishing she was going with them, but Alois was already herding the mercenaries up a staircase into a well-lit, airy audience chamber. Jeralt looked around and shook his head.

“It’s been years since I’ve last set eyes on this place. To be forced to see her now…” 

Byleth glanced sharply at her father. As far as she knew, he had always been a wandering mercenary, certainly never important enough to set foot in a place like this. But Alois and Edelgard said he had been a captain…

“You’ve been here before?” she asked. Her father wasn’t the most open man, but it wasn’t like him to keep a secret this big from her. He seemed to realize this, and grimaced before answering.

“I’ve never spoken to you about this before, but many years ago, I was a knight here. I reported to the Archbishop, Lady Rhea.”

“You were a knight important enough to report directly to the religious head of all of Fodlan, and you never thought to mention this to me?” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice. With all of the bizarre things that had happened in the last day, she had at least wanted to be able to lean on her father as a pillar of normalcy. Now it seemed he was caught up in all this, too. 

“I’m sorry I never told you, it just never seemed important. We’ll talk about this later. Not in front of Rhea.” His tone brooked no argument, and Byleth obediently fell silent as the woman from the balcony, Lady Rhea, swept into the room, accompanied by a stiff looking man with a similar shade of green hair. 

Now that they weren’t separated by such a distance, Byleth could see that Rhea was dressed in the most ostentatious outfit she had ever seen. For her, getting out of her armor was dressing up. This woman wore a dress that seemed to have no fastenings yet fastened in at least six different places. A headdress that dwarfed her actual head sat on her emerald locks, and she favored the mercenaries with a beatific smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The man next to her broke the tense silence. “Thank you for your patience, Jeralt. My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the Archbishop.”

Jeralt simply nodded, not even looking at Seteth. His gaze was fixed on Rhea, carrying a mix of anger and...was that longing? Byleth had never seen her father look like this, and she instinctively shifted her weight into a defensive posture. 

“It has been a long time, Jeralt.” Rhea’s voice was soft, but it carried throughout the audience chamber. This was a woman who was used to people listening when she spoke. “I wonder, was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”

Jeralt audibly cleared his throat and had the grace to look chagrined. “Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke.”

“So I see. The miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. That is your child, is it not?”

Byleth knew she should keep silent; her father obviously had some history with this woman. But she hated being spoken about as if she wasn’t standing right there, and she most certainly was not an ‘it’. She stepped forward and ignored Jeralt’s warning look.

“My name is Byleth, and yes, I am his daughter.”

Rhea turned her gaze to Byleth, and she shivered under its cool weight. “That is a fine name indeed. My condolences for the loss of your mother. She died shortly after you were born, did she not?” 

The hair on the back of her neck raised. There was something off about the Archbishop. Byleth nodded stiffly. “She did. Thank you for your sympathies.”

“I cannot thank you enough for saving those students of the Officers Academy.”

From beside Byleth, Jeralt humphed. Rhea looked at him, not unkindly. “Jeralt. You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?”

“You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros. Alois told me on the ride in. I won’t say no, but…”

“Your apprehension stings. Do you not have fond memories of your time here? I am sorry to depart so abruptly, but an urgent matter requires my attention. There are some people here who wish to speak with you. Please, listen carefully to what they have to say. Until tomorrow...farewell.” 

Rhea swept out of the audience chamber, Seteth trailing after her like a shadow. Byleth glanced up at her father, but clearly now was not the promised ‘later’ in which he would reveal his secrets. He shook his head, his braid coming to rest over one shoulder.

“I can’t believe it. Forced back into the Knights of Seiros.” To Byleth’s mind, he hadn’t fought very hard to avoid this outcome. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, but it looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while. I’m afraid your services are requested as well.”

“They want me to work here? As a mercenary like Soren?”

“Like who? Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. No, they don’t want you as a mercenary. They want you to teach, by the sound of it. You heard Rhea talking about the Officers Academy, right? Well, the academy just happens to be short a professor. And apparently that damned Alois went and recommended you to Lady Rhea.” 

Byleth stared at her father as if he had grown another head. 

“That is the single most absurd idea I’ve ever heard! How can they expect me to teach people barely younger than I am? I have no experience with this!”

Jeralt looked at her with pity, which only served to make Byleth more frustrated. “I know this seems unfair,” he said, “but we don’t have much of a choice. I have to stay here to rejoin the Knights, and to keep an eye on Rhea. You can do this, just teach them what I taught you.”

Byleth snorted. “I think your methods may be a tad uncouth for royalty.”

Her father’s reply was cut off when two new figures entered the audience chamber: an older man with refined gray hair and a matching mustache, wearing a tailored suit complete with a monocle over his right eye. His companion was a beautiful woman wearing a scandalously revealing dress, wrapped in a heavy white cloak. 

The woman was the first to break the silence, addressing Jeralt as if Byleth wasn’t there. “So, you must be the new professor. My, how stern and handsome you are!” Her voice was melodic, carrying far too many implications in its tone for Byleth’s liking. 

Jeralt blushed, yet another sight Byleth never expected to see from him. “Er, no. I’m not the one you’re looking for.” He turned to his daughter. “You can handle things from here. Good luck, and keep your guard up around Lady Rhea. I don’t know what she’s thinking, making you a professor like this, but she must have some plan.”

He turned and marched out of the room, as if in a hurry to escape the appraing eyes of the woman professor. The professor in question turned to Byleth, as if noticing her for the first time.

“Oh, it’s you, then? So young…”

Byleth bristled, but the older professor was already speaking, cutting off the decidedly un-professor-like insult on her tongue. 

“Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know.” His voice was deep and rich, and sounded every bit the wise scholar. “I am Hanneman, a Crest scholar and professor at the Officers Academy. I wonder if you bear a Crest of your own. When next you have a moment to spare, I insist that you pay me a visit so that we can delve into the subject further.” 

_Well he certainly seems full of himself. If I bore a Crest I’d be another spoiled noble, not a battle hardened mercenary._

She tore her glare from Hanneman’s monocled face as the other professor began her own introductions. “I’m Manuela. I’m a professor, a physician, a songstress, and available.” Her gaze traveled up and down Byleth’s figure, which would have made her decidedly uncomfortable even if she hadn’t been ogling Jeralt mere moments ago. 

Already she longed to be done with this conversation, to be alone to unpack the events of these odd few days. If she was going to be working with these people, however, she decided that some measure of tact would serve her well.

“You’re a songstress?” she asked. Given Manuela’s melodic voice, it was something she was quite proud of, and the question would no doubt please her new colleague.

Sure enough, the older woman’s face lit up. “Of course! Before I came here, I belonged to a renowned opera company. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? The Mittlefrank Opera Company’s beautiful, peerless--”

“Spare our colleague the needless chatter, Mauela.” Hanneman’s interruption earned him an icy glare from his colleague, which he either failed to notice or chose to ignore. “Now then, it seems you’ll be taking charge of one of the academy’s three houses. I expect you haven’t yet been briefed on the nature of each, have you?”  
  
“How could I have been?” Byleth’s irritation and exhaustion came through her words, and she marshalled her emotions into a neutral mask with great effort. “I wasn’t aware that I had been made a professor until just before you arrived. I hadn’t even heard of the monastery until yesterday.”  
  
Manuela looked at her with frank disbelief. “Do you really not know? Fine, I’ll do you a favor and explain. The Officers Academy is comprised of three houses of students, each of which is closely affiliated with its region of origin. For their first few years here, the students freely intermingle and learn together, before joining their region’s house in their final year. The Black Eagle houses is for students from the Adrestian Empire. Their house leader this is Edelgard, the Imperial Princess, whom I understand you’ve already met.”

Byleth fought to keep a flush from off her face at the memory of Edelgard’s lilac eyes widened in concern as she took an axe stroke for her, and experienced a brief headache at recalling a memory that apparently hadn’t happened.

Manuela continued her lecture, sounding as if she had been through this process several times and heedless of Byleth’s discomfort. “The Blue Lion house is for students from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Their house leader is Prince Dimitri, the next King of Faerghus.”  
  
She finally paused for breath, and Hanneman seamlessly took over the explanation. “The last of the three houses is the Golden Deer house. Its students are from the Leicester Alliance, and they are led by Claude, grandson to the Sovereign Duke of the Alliance.”

Manuela broke back in. Clearly, there was a bit of a rivalry between her and Hanneman. Byleth did not want to know how far that rivalry reached. “To think that the next emperor, king, and sovereign duke are all here. It certainly is a promising year for the academy, but I do hope none of those little treasures cause any trouble.”

Hanneman huffed an agreement. “Hm, quite. For now, I suggest you take a little stroll around the academy to get your bearings. And when you have a moment, please do stop by my research laboratory.” He put such emphasis on the last word that Byleth felt sure he was trying to one up Manuela’s list of professional capacities from earlier in the conversation.

“The old man has a point,” Manuela admitted. “Oh, and keep in mind that I’ve only notified the house leaders that you’re our new professor. It’s more fun that way.” Byleth wondered how far in advance everyone but her had heard of her new assignment, since she had only just received the news before engaging in this tedious conversation. 

“I suggest you try spending some time with the students,” Manuela continued. “Some odd ducks in that bunch, but they’re good kids. I’m sure Lady Rhea will have more information for you tomorrow, but that should get you going. Good luck. You’ll need it.” She sniffed derisively and led Hanneman out of the audience chamber. 

Byleth shook her head, wondering what had happened to her normal life of being a wandering mercenary with her father. On her way to the stairwell that would take her to the ground floor and the private quarters she had been assigned, she heard the unmistakeable whine of Seteths voice and ducked behind a statue as he and Rhea came around the corner, arguing. 

“Have you no intention of changing your mind, Rhea? Appointing a stranger--a child no less!-- as a professor at our esteemed academy is--”

“I have made my decision, Setheth. I know worrying comes naturally to you, but there truly is no need. That ‘stranger’ is Jeralt’s flesh and blood, after all.”

Byleth personally agreed with Seteth, despite how queasy that made her feel.

“I can’t say that’s all to comforting,” the green haired man grumbled. “How trustworthy is this Jeralt character? Is he not the man who went missing after the great fire twenty-one years ago? I would remind you that Flayn is now here with us as well. I beg of you...please consider whether this is an unnecessary risk.”  
  
Byleth had gone from agreeing with Seteth to being pissed at him in the space of a few sentences, an occurrence she was sure was common with him. How dare he insult her father’s honor! The timing of the fire made her curious, however, as it would put the event a few moons after she was born. 

_But I wasn’t born here. Father told me I was born in a small village in the Empire. This doesn’t make sense._

“Seteth.” The archbishop projected calm with that one word, smoothing her advisor’s ruffled feathers. “She has my trust. Let that be enough for you as well. More importantly, I have received a report from Shamir. I am increasingly concerned about our suspicious individual. We cannot ignore those who harbor ill will towards the Church, especially if they are frequenting Garreg Mach.”  
  
Seteth nodded, acquiescing the point about Jeralt for now. “Yes, that matter is of great importance. I shall continue my investigation. Rhea...For now, I will have faith that you are placing your trust with utmost care. I pray that nothing occurs to shake that confidence.”

He and Rhea continued along the hallway, allowing Byleth to emerge from her improvised hiding place. As she resumed her walk to her new quarters, she turned over the overheard conversation in her mind. Who are Flayn and Shamir? And the suspicious individual sneaking around the monastery? Clearly her father was right; she would need to keep her eyes open in this place.

After getting lost on the way to her room and wandering into the stables, to the surprise of a certain very amused pegasus knight, Byleth collapsed on the bed that had been provided for her and marveled at its comfort. _They didn’t give me much, but the Church seems to believe in quality over quantity._

Whether it was the exhaustion of the last few days or the comfort of her new bed, Byleth slept through the night, for once unbothered by dreams of long forgotten wars and precocious girls.

Despite this respite, she woke in a blind panic, drenched in sweat and in more pain than she could process. Scrambling out of bed, she shucked off her shirt and reached around to her back, desperately searching for a wound that was no longer there, that had never been there except in her memory. Unable to soothe the pain of a wound that didn’t exist, she curled into a ball and waited desperately for the pain to fade.

After a number of minutes that she couldn’t recall, Byleth unfolded herself and stood shakily. _I suppose this is why mages don’t mess with time like they do with the other elements._

 _“Please, as if mere humans could ever accomplish what I can.”_ _  
_

Byleth nearly fell back to the floor, her already addled mind and sore body in no state to deal with the sudden emergence of the child in her head. She sat on her bed and cradled her head in her hands. _Sothis? Are you there?_ Silence answered her. Convinced she was losing her mind, she was startled out of her introspection by a knock on her door.

“Hold a moment!” she called through the door, scrambling to get dressed and tidy the mess she’d made of her small room in her earlier panic. Satisfied that she could avoid a series of awkward questions she had no answers to, she opened the door and peered into a pair of deep green eyes, wide with concern.

“Hiya,” Soren said. “Sounded like this time you did fall out of the proverbial saddle. You alright, Professor?” 

Byleth ran a hand through her sleep matter locks and pondered how much to tell the young mercenary. Soren had only shown friendliness and concern for her, but she was becoming increasingly on edge in this place.

“Just a bad dream. I often have them in the days after such a large battle.” Not an outright lie, but not the truth, either. She could tell Soren didn’t completely buy it, but the younger girl had the grace to nod and move on.”  
  
“Lady Rhea told me you’d been named the new professor, and I actually thought she was joking. But Lady Rhea doesn’t often tell jokes. Well congratulations, for what it's worth. I’ve been sent to give you the tour, such as it is, and introduce you to the three house leaders. I tried to tell her that you’d already met them, hell, you’ve shed blood with them! But she insisted on arranging formal introductions.”

Soren took a step back and Byleth saw she was dressed in leather armor that looked quite a bit more comfortable than the full plate she had been wearing when they first met. The redhead held out a hand, her other arm wrapped around an iron lance. “After you, Professor.”

Byleth shook her head but stepped out of her room. She’d put money on Seteth being the one to arrange an armed escort for her. Glancing at the girl next to her, she decided she could do worse than the enthusiastic redhead for company.

“You don’t have to call me Professor, you know. I doubt I’ll be teaching you, after all.”

“Are you kidding? I’m sure the daughter of the Blade Breaker could teach me all sorts of useful tricks. But if you insist, Byleth it is.”

“I do. Did Lady Rhea happen to tell you how long you would be watching me?”

The pegasus rider visibly squirmed, clearly not sure how much information to share. “Actually, Prof--Byleth, Seteth was the one who told me to come get you. But I’m sure he just wanted to make sure you could find your way around. The monastery can be a maze for newcomers.”  
  
The way the girl couldn’t meet her eyes told Byleth everything she needed to know about the true nature of Soren’s assignment, but she couldn’t help but smile at being proven right about Seteth’s paranoid nature. 

“Where are we off to first?”

“Lady Rhea wanted to see you in her audience chamber, but I thought we could go by the classrooms for the three houses on the way, so you can see a little of their personalities. Of course, Lady Rhea will probably want you to talk to the house leaders individually, but a little sneak peek can’t hurt.” 

Byleth snorted but gestured at Soren to lead the way. Surely the one place she could be trusted to find in this monastery was the one place she had already been? Seteth would need to learn a thing or two about assigning covert guards. 

As she and Soren walked away from her quarters, Byleth saw a number of cats and dogs wandering around the monastery grounds. Occasionally, a student would stop to pet them or feed them a snack, but for the most part they seemed content to simply wander. Byleth made a mental note to befriend a cat as soon as possible. Jeralt had never allowed her a pet, given their nomadic lifestyle, and she wanted to at least make something good of this outrageous situation.

After following Soren through countless hallways and rooms, Byleth decided that perhaps it was a good thing she had a guide after all. It would take her ages to learn every passageway in this place, but given her father’s words to her the last time they’d spoken, it seemed as if she'd have the time. 

Finally, the pair emerged into a courtyard lined on one side with classrooms, on another by a sturdy wall, and on the final two sides by open air hallways leading elsewhere in the monastery complex. At the moment, the courtyard was awash with activity. Several students, Dimitri among them, dueled with wooden practice weapons in the open space. 

She paused a moment to watch, noting how Dimitri was easily the best of the three combatants, brushing aside strokes of his opponents’ sword and axe with his lance. As she and her guide passed by, he looked up and met her eyes. He offered a wave, his lapse in focus earning him a slap from a wooden blade. With a laugh, he turned back to his classmates and renewed their duel.

Byleth rolled her eyes. She had expected more from the serious boy who had felled nearly as many bandits as she. She supposed he felt safe enough to relax in this protected place, and tried to ease some tension from her shoulders in kind.

She glanced into the classrooms as they passed, each one hung with the banners of its house. In the Black Eagle classroom, she saw a group of students clustered around Edelgard as she demonstrated how to shape a magical sigil. 

The Blue Lion classroom was mostly empty, which answered the question of whom Dimitri had been sparring. At the end of the row, the Golden Deer house was gathered around a table with a map spread over its surface. Claude was pointing something out to his peers, but looked up to give Byleth a jaunty wave. A ginger girl with close cropped hair plucked a bow string, and when she glanced up and saw Byleth, her eyes narrowed into a glare.

Soren led her into yet another hallway, before climbing a staircase Byleth recognized from the night before. Relieved to be back in a familiar setting, she marveled at how fast her perspective could change on what felt “familiar.” At the top of the stairs, they came to the door to Rhea’s audience chamber, and Soren stopped just outside. 

“Lady Rhea wanted to speak to you privately. I’ll be here when you’re done. In the meantime, I’ll go let the house leaders know you’ll be looking for them.”

Byleth nodded and stepped into the airy space noticing the way the light refracted through the stained glass windows in a way she hadn’t the day before. Rhea stood at the far end of the room, and Byleth passed Seteth and Alois on her way over. Alois waved at her jovially, and Seteth simply nodded in acknowledgement. 

Rhea turned to face her as she approached and smiled warmly. “Greetings, Professor. I am glad to see Soren was able to deliver you here in one piece.” Her words were underlaid with a wry humor, showing that she too was exasperated by her aide’s paranoia. “I can assure you that as a professor of our academy, you will be free to explore the monastery as you please, but for a few sacred spaces.”

Byleth nodded, glad that somebody was at last acknowledging that she wasn’t helpless, even as her father’s warning to keep her guard up around Rhea played in the back of her mind.

“Now that you have had some time to get comfortable with the idea of your new position here at Garreg Mach, I would ask you to speak with the three house leaders. If possible, you should also take the time to speak to any students you meet. This is your home now, and you should become acquainted with it. Report back to me when you have finished.”

Byleth knew a dismissal when she heard one, and nodded to Rhea before turning and walking back across the great hall. She wondered idly if the size of the room was to tire out any irritated denizens of the monastery before they could raise their complaints to the archbishop. 

As she passed by Alois and Seteth again, the knight waved her over. “Ha! I imagine you were a bit surprised that I recommended you as a professor here. Sorry about the lack of warning. Frankly, we had someone else in mind for the role, but they ran off during our dustup with the bandits. Can’t entrust students to someone who’s abandoned them once before, huh?”

His tone was as casual as ever, but the words conveyed a clear warning. Failure was not tolerated at the monastery. Alois hadn’t mentioned where the former professor was now, and Byleth was not about to ask. Seteth glared at her, as usual, though he softened slightly when Alois mentioned the students.

“You saved the lives of the students you came across. That, at least, was admirable. Now, you should make the rounds. Go around the monastery and see that you greet everyone.”  
  
Byleth was a bit annoyed at being given the same instructions repeatedly, but she hid her frustration and simply nodded to Seteth before exiting the audience chamber. Just outside the door, Soren waited as promised.

“Hiya! Seteth told me during your meeting that you’d decided to stay on as a professor after all, so looks like you won’t be needing me to guide you around anymore.”  
  
 _Strange. I wasn’t aware that I had a choice in the matter. Everyone here seems to be playing their own game. It would help if I knew the rules, or even the goal._

Soren kept talking, forcing Byleth out of her thoughts. “Edelgard is already waiting for you in the reception hall downstairs, and Claude and Dimitir said they’d stay in the academy courtyard. Good luck, Professor.” She put a teasing emphasis on Byleth’s new title, as if she knew how out of place it sounded. She smiled at the pegasus rider, who thumped a fist to her chest in a salute before heading off down the hall. 

Byleth watched her go before descending to the main floor and into the vast and incredibly ostentatious reception hall. The walls were a rich mahogany, with arches and chandeliers filling in the ceiling. Fine wooden tables and benches lined the walls, and the floor was so polished she could see her reflection in it. 

She noticed Edelgard standing a little ways off, sticking out in her modified academy uniform. The princess raised a hand in acknowledgment when she saw Byleth, which for her was as effusive as tackle hugging the professor right there in the reception hall. 

“So you’ve accepted a teaching position here,” Edelgard said. “Pity, I was hoping you would lend your strength to the Empire. Speaking of which, I never properly introduced myself, did I? I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, the princess and heir apparent to the Adrestian Empire.” She seemed to draw herself up with the introduction, trying to give her words weight despite her shorter stature. Byleth might have been fooled by the other girl’s height if she hadn’t seen her wield an iron battleaxe like it was made of wood. 

Once again, Byleth found herself wondering why everyone seemed to believe she had a choice in becoming a professor. She tore herself out of her thoughts to refocus on Edelgard, who hadn’t stopped speaking. “I wonder if you’ll be tasked with leading the Black Eagles...I hope you’ve had a chance to meet everyone.”

“Actually, I’ve still only met you, Dimitri, and Claude. I was sent straight to Lady Rhea this morning, and haven’t had much time to explore the monastery or meet the students.” 

Edelgard hummed her disapproval with the archbishop’s scheduling, and gestured for Byleth to follow her. “In that case, let’s head back to the academy courtyard. The Eagles should be gathered there, and I can point them out to you and answer any questions you may have. 

_At least someone is willing to answer my questions. ‘Your Highness, do you have any experience with having a small child living in your brain?’ That’ll go over real well._

She followed the princess back to the courtyard, wondering idly when she’d truly have a chance to explore on her own. When they arrived, they saw that Dimitri’s sparring match with the Blue Lion students had ended, and students from all three houses were milling about in the grass, reading, talking, and petting the animals that seemed everywhere in Garreg Mach.

“So, the Eagles seem to be mostly in that corner,” Edelgard said, pointing towards their classroom. “Do any of them catch your eye?”

“You did,” Byleth said before she could stop herself. Edelgard turned to face her in surprise, lilac eyes meeting Byleth’s teal gaze.

“Me? Well, I suppose you did save my life in the battle against those bandits. I’d imagine such an occasion to be a memorable one. I’m not entirely sure what to tell you. Some people find me a bit distant. Arrogant, even. But there’s little to be done. One day, the weight of the whole Empire will sit on my shoulders. If I must be arrogant to bear that weight, then so be it. What else...well, it seems to me that we may have similar personalities.”

The princess blushed as Byleth raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me arrogant, Your Highness?”

“Please, call me Edelgard. Here, I am just another student. And I meant no offense, Professor. I was speaking more towards your control in battle and your drive. Becoming a professor at the Officers Academy is no small achievement, especially when the professor in question has only just learned of its existence.”

The words could have been biting, but Edelgard smiled as she spoke, telling Byleth she recognized the absurdity of the situation but didn’t hold it against her. “Are there any other Eagles you wish to know about?”

“You might as well tell me about all of them. If I am to be their teacher, I’ll need to know what I’m working with.”

“I wasn’t aware you had already chosen a house to lead.”

_I’d chosen before I knew I’d have the choice. I chose the first time I saw you in that field._

“I haven’t, yet. I plan on having similar conversations with Claude and Dimitri. You were simply first on my list.”

“I see...very well. The tall boy with the dark hair that falls over his eye? That’s Hubert von Vestra.” Byleth looked at the boy in question and felt a chill run down her spine. The boy had a dark aura, and as he made eye contact with her across the courtyard, Byleth found herself turning away rather than hold his gaze.

“Hubert has served me since I was a child. You may think his blood runs a bit cold, but...well, I suppose it does. But if you can get past that, you’ll see he’s quite astute and reasonable.”

“Understood. And the rest of the Eagles?”

Edelgard smiled, noting her obvious discomfort. “The boy next to Hubert with ginger hair is Ferdinand von Aegir. He thinks of himself as a bitter rival and is always trying to challenge me, though in truth it gets rather tiresome. His father is Duke Aegir, the Prime Minister in the Empire. That family...is perhaps too pleased with its own status.”

Her tone darkened abruptly at the mention of Ferdinand’s father, and Byleth glanced sharply at her. Edelgard waved off her concern and moved on to the next student. “The boy with green hair taking a nap on the bench over there is Linhardt von Hevring. He’s remarkably intelligent, but only wishes to apply himself to tasks that particularly interest him. He’s also fond of...well, napping, as you can see.” 

She grimaced slightly, clearly not pleased with this display from a student of her house. Byleth hid a smile, Edelgard was pretty when she wrinkled her brow.

_And why do I care if she is pretty? She is to be my student. We may be close in age, but she is a princess and I am to be her teacher. I must get my head out of the clouds._

Edelgard continued pointing out her classmates, oblivious to Byleth’s inner struggle. “The blue-haired boy shadow boxing under the tree? That’s Caspar von Bergliez. He’s a second son, so he came here to make his name as a knight. He’s a bit over-enthusiastic in that goal, and often charges headlong into battle. You’ll need to keep a close eye on him should you choose to lead our house.”

“The girl with purple hair hiding in the doorway to our classroom is Bernadetta von Varley. She’s an only child, and a nervous soul. She often shuts herself away in her quarters and refuses to talk to anyone, but I’ll make sure she finds her way to class.”

Byleth looked at the short girl trying unsuccessfully to make herself invisible, and remembered a time when she herself was frightened of the world. Her father would often come back from jobs bloodied and hurt, and even though Byleth knew she would be a mercenary too one day, all she’d wanted to do back then was curl up and draw. Then Jeralt had put a sword in her hand and she’d never felt so alive.

“The two girls closest to us are the last members of the Black Eagles, and our only two commoners. Dorothea Arnault is the one with brown hair and the beret. She was an accomplished songstress before joining the academy, and she sang with a famous opera company in the Empire.”

“The Mittlefrank Company?”

“Yes, how did you...you must have met Manuela. Yes, Dorothea replaced Manuela as the company’s diva when the latter became a professor here. And now they’re both at the monastery. The music scene back home must be devastated.”

Edelgard sounded as if she’d been to the opera enough for it to have become boring, which Byleth supposed was logical. As a princess, she must have been to many high society events. The closest Byleth had come to an opera was drunken songs in taverns while traveling with her father. 

“Finally, we have Petra Macneary. She hails from a small island nation off the coast of the Empire called Brigid. Back home, she’s a princess, but because Brigid is a vassal state to the Empire, her rank holds no sway here. Though she struggles with speaking our language, she is incredibly smart and studious.”

Byleth felt more out of place than ever. Of the two Black Eagles who shared a social rank with her, one was a famous singer and the other a princess in her own right. She wasn’t fit to eat with these people, let alone teach them. What was Rhea thinking?

“Professor? Are you alright?”

Startled out of her thoughts again, Byleth gave Edelgard a sheepish smile. “I’m just a little overwhelmed, honestly. When I would travel with my father’s company, he would make all the arrangements for lodging and pay. I just swung a sword.”

“I can understand that this is not something you’re used to, Professor, but based on the way you swing that sword I can assure you that we have much to learn from you. If you choose to lead the Eagles, you’ll find us eager and ready to learn.”

Byleth nodded her thanks. “I appreciate you taking the time to tell me about your classmates. If you’ll excuse me, I need to repeat this conversation with the other house leaders and then report back to Lady Rhea.”  
  
Did Edelgard’s eyes narrow when she mentioned the archbishop, or was it a trick of the light? Byleth couldn’t tell, but already she got the feeling that Rhea and her Church might not be as universally well-loved as they liked to think. 

“Farewell, Professor. I bid you luck in making your decision. The warmth Edelgard had shown when talking about her classmates was gone, leaving only the reserved princess in its wake. Byleth nodded her farewell and went to find Claude and Dimitri.

Dimitri introduced himself very formally as “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, crown prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus,” but his introduction of the Blue Lions went by in a blur. Byleth had absorbed too many names and faces today, and if she was honest with herself she already knew which house she would ask to teach. 

She did take note of two girls practicing sigils together under a tree, whom Dimitri introduced as Mercedes and Annette. If Byleth’s years on the battlefield had taught her one thing, it was to always know where the mages were, both yours and the enemies’. 

Her talk with Claude went much the same way. He introduced himself as the heir to the ruling house of the Leicester Alliance, but dodged any further questions about himself. At this point Byleth was feeling more than a little overwhelmed and desperately wished for the banality of sword training, so she only asked Clause about one of his classmates. It was rude, but she was done acting the polite teacher to these nobles. She did need to know who the ginger girl who had glared at her earlier was, however. 

“Ah, that’s Leonie. She enrolled here because she wants to be a mercenary. She practically worships your father, honestly. She speaks her mind and doesn’t hold anything back.”

Her father knew one of these students? She’d have to ask him about that when she saw him next. Making as polite an excuse as she could, she practically fled from Claude’s intelligent eyes and knowing grin.

Back in the cool vestibule outside Rhea’s audience chamber, Byleth finally allowed herself to relax, taking a few deep breaths and running her hands through her teal locks. She didn’t know how she was supposed to be able to teach these students, or if she was even supposed to succeed, but she did know that once she was given a task she would see it through. And if it meant more time spent with the mysterious Imperial Princess, well, that was a bonus.

Holding her head high, she walked into the chamber and directly to Rhea, who stood waiting for her with Seteth close by her side.

“How are you enjoying your time at the academy thus far?” The archbishop’s voice was a soft and smooth as ever, but right now Byleth had no patience for more of her word games.

“The monastery is impressive, as are the students. I’ve made my choice of which house I’d like to teach.”  
  
Rhea raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being interrupted. Byleth met her gaze evenly, her fighting spirit reasserting itself after the confusion of the past few days. If this woman wanted her to play her games, Byleth was going to at least play her own way. 

Hanneman and Manuela arrived, took in the tense scene with a glance, and stood off to the side.

Rhea held Byleth’s gaze for a moment before smiling slowly. “I am glad to see your new role has not dimmed your enthusiasm. Luckily, your fellow professors have already agreed to allow you first pick of our three houses, as you are the newest member of our staff.”

The archbishop, her aide, and the two professors all looked at her, waiting for her to make the choice her heart had made days ago. Holding her head high, Byleth spoke clearly.

“I will lead the Black Eagles.”


	2. Mocking Words in a Mock Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth teaches her first lesson, and the Black Eagles take the field for the mock battle. Byleth learns about *trauma*.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Byleth is too gay to focus

Rhea had taken Byleth’s choice of house with a knowing smile that she was beginning to hate, and sent her on her way to greet her new students. Before she could leave the audience chamber, a young girl with bright green hair ran in.

“Brother? Oh! I am so sincerely sorry! I did not mean to interrupt.” Her voice was full of youthful enthusiasm, and she did not seem at all sorry.

“I thought I told you to wait outside, Flayn.” Seteth’s usual annoyed tone had vanished, replaced by more concern than Byleth had seen him display, even for Rhea. “No matter, we are finished here, I believe. What did you need?”

“Oh, it was nothing. More importantly, who is this?” Flayn spoke with a stilted cadence that seemed at odds with her exuberant appearance. Seteth looked at Byleth, clearly prepared to make introductions, but she was tired of being talked about as if she wasn’t in the room.

“My name is Byleth Eisner. I’m the newest professor at the academy, and I’ll be teaching the Black Eagles.” The title still felt strange on her lips, but the linking of her fate to the Adrestian house felt somehow right. If Seteth was put off by having his lines stolen, he didn’t show it.

“Oh my! A new addition to the Officers Academy! I am so very pleased to meet you, Professor. I am Seteth’s little sister, Flayn. I am so happy to make your acquaintance.” 

“Let us focus on the topic at hand, please.” There was Seteth’s usual irritation, back in full force. “Professor, there is something you should be aware of. In a few days’ time, there will be a mock battle between the three houses. This will serve as an opportunity not only to gauge the students’ progress, but your abilities as well. Do not disappoint the archbishop. That is all.”

“I haven’t even had a chance to speak to them yet, and you expect me to lead them into battle in a matter of days? That’s absurd!” _As absurd as making me a professor_ , she left unsaid.

“This will be a mere mock battle with practice weapons. I’m sure a mercenary of your renown can handle it. You are dismissed, Professor.” He turned and walked away before Byleth could respond, leaving her fuming in the middle of the audience chamber. She decided nothing more could be gained at the moment, and set about returning to the Eagles’ classroom to properly meet the students. Her students, she reminded herself.

Her class was waiting for her when she arrived at their well lit classroom, gathered in the center of the space between long benches facing a podium and chalkboard. Byleth hid a smile--Edelgard must have known she would choose the Eagles and had prepared them.

As the students took notice of her presence, she found herself revising her opinion of their preparedness.

“Wait, so our new professor is...you?” The blue-haired boy; Caspar, she remembered, didn’t bother to hide his shock. “Wow, I didn’t see that one coming.”

“Easy, Caspar! Aren’t you being a bit rude?” Even had Edelgard not pointed out Dorothea as a famous singer, Byleth would have known by the musical tones of her voice. The girl wore her beret perched jauntily on her brown curls, and her mouth curled in a frown at Caspar.

“It’s alright, Dorothea.” The girl glanced at Byleth and gave her a glowing smile, pleased the professor had remembered her name. “I wasn’t expecting to end up here, either. I know I might not have the most experience with teaching, but I promise I will do my best to teach you all that I know.”  
  
Most of the students nodded, while Hubert simply stared at her, a calculator look on his cold face. Linhardt, the sleepy green-haired boy, yawned and gave a short bow. “It will be a pleasure learning from you, Professor, but if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to take a nap.”

Byleth gaped at him as he nonchalantly left the classroom, but the other Eagles all seemed to be used to it. She glanced around, looking for any cues as to what to say next, and her gaze met the storm-grey eyes of Bernadetta, who promptly squeaked in panic.

“Ah! Don’t look at me like that! And don’t talk to me too much either!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  
  
“I said don’t talk to me! Don’t you know mercenaries are terrifying?” The diminutive girl turned her back on Byleth and the others, her purple locks bobbing as she desperately tried to avoid the conversation. 

Dorothea gave Byleth a sympathetic glance that turned her legs to jelly. “I’m sorry for the chaos you’ve walked into, Professor. I’d say the Black Eagles aren’t always like this, but I’m afraid we are.”  
  
Ferdinand took the opportunity to step closer to Byleth and offer a conspiratorial smile. “I hear we are rather close in age, Professor. I hope you do not mind if we treat you like one of us. In our class, we try to treat each other as equals, despite any differences in age or status. Personally, I would love to include you in that inner circle.”

His tone made it clear just how personally the idea appealed to him, and Byleth wanted none of it. Still, she had no idea how a professor should act, and so she took the olive branch the taller boy had offered her. “That sounds like a good idea. As I said, I have minimal experience with teaching and even less interacting with nobles. Please, treat me as you would each other.”

The other purple-haired girl, Petra, spoke in a lilting accent. She had a curious mark under her right eye that Byleth resolved to ask her about later. “You have a gut, Professor. I will take great joy from your teachings.”

Byleth stifled a laugh; the girl was clearly trying her best. Dorothea, on the other hand, looked mortified. “Petra, I believe you mean to say that our professor has ‘guts.’ That’s a bit different from ‘having a gut.’ You can’t go around saying someone so slim and attractive has a gut.” 

The songstress winked at Byleth, and she fought the blush that was surely covering her cheeks. Petra looked chagrined, but her eyes steeled with determination. “Please, take my apologies. I have not yet mastered this language.”

“You speak very well. I’m sure living at the academy will only help you to improve further.” The girl nodded her head in thanks. Edelgard took advantage of the momentary silence to reestablish control over the conversation.

“Professor, I want you to know that it’s perfectly acceptable for you to treat me as you do the others. I may be the Imperial Princess, but here at the academy I am just another student.” Byleth hadn’t planned to offer special treatment, and simply nodded as Edelgard continued. “That said, know that I have high expectations of you. And high hopes. But I’m certain you can lead the Black Eagle house to greatness.”

Her gaze lingered on the Professor, and Byleth had to fight to maintain eye contact. Caspar shook his head, clearly bored with the formalities. “Sure, sure. Now let’s break the ice with a training session! I want to see our new teacher in action.” 

“Why will the ice be broken? Is this a custom I have missed in my studies?” Byleth couldn’t be sure, but as Caspar tried to find a way to explain the idiom, she thought she saw Petra wink at her. 

“I don’t want to train! Let’s just stay in the classroom and...learn from a book!” Bernadetta did look positively terrified at the idea of weapons practice, and Byleth wondered again how she was expected to lead these children into battle.

Linhardt snored loudly from the corner of the classroom, and Ferdinand threw his hands up in exasperation. “I know we all agreed to treat each other as equals, but there is a limit to what I can tolerate. The esteemed Black Eagle house requires order.”

The students exploded into an argument about proper conduct, and Hubert met Byleth’s eyes over the bickering. “Looks like your first job will be to quiet down this racket. I don’t envy you.” He chuckled, a low sound that sent chills down Byleth’s spine.

Edelgard looked pained at the display in front of her. “They’re not normally this...rowdy. I do hope you can manage, Professor.” 

As it happened, Byleth was about three seconds from walking out of the room and telling Rhea she couldn’t do this. The thought of admitting as much to the archbishop kept her rooted to the floor, however, and so she resolved to find a way to establish control over her new house. 

She took a deep breath, and used that air to raise her voice into a shout she knew could be heard over even the chaos of battle. “Everyone, eyes front! Now!”

The Eagles immediately fell into silence, save for another squeak from Bernadetta and Linhardt’s continued snoring.

Byleth suppressed a shudder at holding the undivided attention of her seven conscious students, but pushed her nerves down with the ease of long practice. “I know we’re all excited, for various reasons, but we do need to focus. A relaxed atmosphere is one thing, chaos is another. As you are all no doubt aware, the faculty of the academy has decided there will be a mock battle between the houses in a matter of days. I cannot lead you into that battle if I have no knowledge of your individual skills.”  
  
The class was hanging on her words; even Linhardt had woken up. “Luckily for you, Caspar, that does mean we’ll need to have a training session.” She ignored the muffled groan from Bernadetta. She felt for the girl; she hadn’t wanted to learn to fight when she was younger. Sadly, it was a necessity in her life, and she felt it would soon become necessary for these students as well.

“Everyone, go back to your quarters and change out of your uniforms. Wear training gear, and we’ll meet in the training grounds in fifteen minutes. And yes, this is mandatory.”

Bernadetta was shaking, Caspar looked excited, and Edelgard simply watched her professor with an appraising eye. As the class filed out of the classroom to get changed, Byleth stayed behind in case anyone had questions, or in Bernadetta’s case, complaints. 

To her surprise, it was Hubert who stopped by on his way out. “Good job taking control. Perhaps I underestimated you.” He shouldn’t make her nervous, she was a battle-hardened warrior and he was a mere student, but his cool gaze made her want to turn tail and run more than any bandit had. She managed a nod, and sighed in relief when he left to follow Edelgard.

When Byleth arrived at her own quarters to change into her training gear, she found an envelope resting in the mail bin attached to the wall next to her door.

_“Please meet with me in my research laboratory at your earliest convenience. Regards, Hanneman.”_

She groaned; she had no idea where Hanneman kept his offices, and she refused to be escorted around the monastery any longer. If she was to hold the respect of her students, and perhaps more importantly her peers, she would have to be self sufficient in her new home. That being said, she knew it could take her hours to find the correct room in the maze of hallways that made up the main buildings, and she was due at the training grounds in a matter of minutes. 

She decided that she would take Hanneman literally when he said “at your earliest convenience,” and resolved to meet with him after the training session with the Eagles. Hurrying to get changed, she almost missed the flash of a scar across her back in the mirror. 

She whirled, trying to catch a glimpse of it, but when she looked back at the mirror it was gone. Her back was smooth, save for a few smaller scars she’d picked up over the years. Nothing like the horrible wound she kept remembering, that she didn’t have. She’d have to find a way to ask Manuela about this that didn’t make her sound completely insane.

But, it would have to wait. She refused to show up late to a meeting she had scheduled, and quickly finished changing into the scarlet training clothes the academy had provided. Consisting of simple shorts and a sleeveless top, the uniform had the Black Eagle logo stitched on the left breast. 

She smiled, if there was one way to ingrain herself into the casual atmosphere her students wanted, it was to treat herself like one of them. That, and the clothes were incredibly comfortable. Whatever the monastery budget for clothing was, it was much more than she’d ever had as a mercenary.

Luckily, the training grounds were located almost next to her quarters, and she found herself the first one there. Nodding to the Knight guarding the door, she stepped inside and had to stop her mouth from falling open.   
  
The Garreg Mach training grounds were fantastic beyond her wildest dreams. Consisting of several open squares of flooring separated by benches and equipment racks, there was room here to practice nearly any discipline of individual combat. While they would have to leave the monastery to work on larger scale strategy, Byleth could see that she would have no shortage of opportunities to drill her students on the basics. 

She smiled as she thought of them as hers; perhaps she would take more readily to teaching than she’d first thought. She intentionally did not think of having to give lectures in the coming week, and busied herself inspecting the training weapons available to her class.

While there were racks full of functional, iron and steel weapons, she knew they wouldn’t be ready for live combat drills for several weeks, if not several moons. However, there were enough wooden weapons to fill out any skills, from classic sword fighting to guantleted fistfights, and even a selection of wooden arrows for archery drills. She knew from experience that those would leave deep bruises, but were unlikely to break any bones.

The only thing that would be difficult to practice here would be magical combat, but at the moment that was beyond her ability to teach, anyway. She would have to find an instructor to at least teach her a few basic level spells; if she was to be a good professor she would have to be able to guide all her students, and she knew at least three of them were mages. She supposed she could ask Hanneman or Manuela, but both of her colleagues had shown her such disdain so far that asking them for help didn’t much appeal to her.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of the Eagles, and she leaned on a weapon rack as they lined up in front of her. Even Bernadetta had made it, though she seemed intent on staying as far away from the fighting pits as possible.

Byleth was unsurprised to see Caspar at the front of the pack; she’d figured him to be the most eager of the bunch, which meant he would be her example. Based on his build and attitude, she judged him to be an axe fighter. _Like Edelgard_ , her mind whispered, unbidden. Forcing herself into the blank mental state she used for combat, she tossed a wooden training axe at Caspar, pleased when he caught it without too much surprise. 

“Today we’ll be focusing on the basics. This session is just so I can see what disciplines you each gravitate to, so I know how to deploy you in the mock battle.” _And in the real ones I have no doubt we’ll end up in._

“I’ll start by demonstrating my style against Caspar, so you all have an idea of the speed I’m looking for. Then you’ll each pick a weapon type and I’ll divide you into pairs based on those. Mages, I know this isn’t your thing, but for now just pick a weapon you’d hypothetically like to learn and we’ll go from there.”

The students gathered around the edge of the fighting pit, some jostling for better views and others content to watch from the back. Byleth was surprised to see Bernadetta in the front row, with a determined look on her face and none of her usual anxiety showing. Then she was raising her wooden sword in a salute to her opponent, and Caspar was the only student she was thinking about. 

Their bout started slowly, neither sure of the other’s skill. As her sword met Caspar’s axe, the dull _clunk_ of the wood was a far cry from the ringing clash of metal on metal she was used to. As their pace gradually increased, she relaxed into the familiar dance of combat.

Though she had intended to keep the bout at around half speed so the less experienced students could see each move being displayed, Caspar’s confident grin and taunting personality quickly drew her into fighting at full speed.

As their practice weapons blurred through blocks and strikes, she quickly realized he was no match for her speed. While the boy had a great deal of strength behind his blows, he had no form. It was easy for Byleth to parry or even dodge Caspar’s strikes, and she knew she would have to impress upon him the importance of actually landing a blow in a fight.

Then she caught Edelgard watching the fight with a small smile, and in her moment of distraction Caspar managed to land a solid blow to her ribs with his wooden axe. While the strike did no lasting damage, the sharp pain of the unexpected hit shocked Byleth into an adrenaline rush and she briefly forgot this was a training bout. 

Fighting with the intent to win rather than demonstrate, it took about three seconds for Caspar to find his axe knocked from his grip and his wrist bruised. If they had been using real weapons, he would have lost his hand.

As the students broke out into a flurry of whispering, Byleth’s focus gradually expanded from the tunnel her mind went to when she fought a true battle.

“Shit!” She was supposed to be teaching these kids, not breaking them. She scooped up Caspar’s axe and handed it back to him, keeping his back to the watching Eagles. “You alright?” she asked in a quiet voice. She knew from experience that while her blow may have hurt his wrist, coddling him in front of his classmates would hurt far worse. Still, she needed to know if his wrist needed a healer.

“I’m fine, Professor! You have to show me that move again, that was amazing!”

She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, but shook her head. “I think I’m done demonstrating for today. I still need to see where your classmates’ skills lie. But that was well fought, Caspar. We’ll duel again, don’t worry.”

He nodded excitedly, and swung his axe through a few practice moves while the other Eagles picked weapons from the racks. Edelgard selected another training axe, while Hubert distastefully lifted a sword. Byleth knew most mages didn’t like the weight of traditional weapons, but she also knew that mages could run out of magical energy in the middle of a fight, and then there was no substitute for a sturdy blade at your side.

She decided that all the mages in her house would learn at least one martial style, but also resolved to find a magic teacher as soon as possible, even if that meant asking the other professors for help.

Bernadetta hefted a bow, stringing it and practicing a draw with a strength and skill Byleth hadn’t expected from the shy girl. Dorothea and Linhardt, the other two mages, picked a sword and a bow, respectively. Byleth knew Linhardt would have trouble bringing the bow to full draw, but today was not the time to refute his choices. He would quickly discover the bow was not for him, and would either choose a different weapon or strive to improve his strength. Either choice would tell Byleth something about his attitude in battle, and that was the point of today’s session. 

Ferdinand took a lance from the rack to nobody’s surprise; the noble scion was practically born to be a cavalier. Petra seemed to be having a difficult time deciding on a weapon, and Byleth divided the others into pairs before approaching her.

“Professor, I am having experience with the sword and the bow, and do not know which to use.”

Byleth glanced back at the rest of the students. She only had two archers, and one of those was Linhardt, who she knew was primarily a healer. “Practice with the bow for now, but keep both skills sharp.”

Petra nodded, quickly stringing her bow and nocking an arrow. From the ease of her movements, Byleth suspected she had experience with hunting. 

Since there were an even number of students, Byleth was free to move around the training grounds, observing and advising the sparring pairs. Most of the training session passed without incident, and she was pleased to see that the Eagles had a solid basis she could work with.

Towards the end of the hour she had scheduled, she was observing Edelgard as she sparred with Caspar. Behind her, Dorothea and Petra dueled, the latter having switched to a sword. With all of her focus on the princess, Byleth failed to notice Dorothea’s exuberant shout as she disarmed Petra. The wooden practice sword thudded into Byleth’s upper back, and her mind exploded with pain. 

_No, no, not again! This can’t happen now, not in front of the students!_

Try as she might to hide the pain, her mind was locked in agony. She would have collapsed had Edelgard not caught her by the arm.

“Professor? Are you alright?” Her voice sounded muffled, as if Byleth were under water. Looking up into Edelgard’s concerned eyes, she clawed her way back to the surface and forced the pain to the back of her mind.

The house leader noticeably relaxed as Byleth took back her own weight. “I’m alright.” Her voice sounded raw, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Pain from an old wound combined with bad memories. It’s nothing.”

Edelgard didn’t look convinced, but Byleth didn’t give her time to argue. Turning back to the rest of her class, she called for an end to the sparring matches. “That’s enough for today. Good work, everyone.” She wanted to say more, to tell them that they’d be fine in the coming mock battle, but the pain was still hovering in the back of her mind, and Edelgard was watching her with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Byleth needed to be alone, and so she dismissed the class and strode out of the training grounds before most of them had returned their weapons to the racks. She reached her personal quarters and locked the door before collapsing onto the bed and releasing the tenuous hold she had on the pain in her back. As the muscles spasmed from wounds that weren’t there, she thought she heard someone singing a lullaby softly. 

When the pain threatened to make her scream out, she bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood, and retreated to the deepest part of her mind, trying for the blank emotional state she had used earlier in her match against Caspar.

The pain stopped as suddenly as it had started, leaving her gasping for air. When she opened her eyes, she found herself not in her meager bedroom but in the cavernous throne room where she had first met Sothis in her dreams.

The girl was on her throne as usual, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “My poor warrior. If I could take this pain from you, I swear I would.” The petulance had gone from Sothis’ voice, leaving only concern and a pity that made Byleth angry in the absence of her pain.

“You mean to tell me that you can turn back the hands of time, but you can’t put a stop to a bad dream?”

“If it were merely a dream, I could indeed take it from you. But what you remember is real. That axe did land, and you remember the pain. Though I reversed the flow of time to save your body, your mind traveled with me. I cannot undo the memory.”

Byleth cried. In a distant part of her mind, she could feel the tears pooling on her pillow, but here in the throne room they fell to the floor without a sound. “What do I do?” Her voice came out in a whisper. “I can’t fight like this. If I can’t fight, how can I lead them into battle?”  
  
“So quickly you cast aside your own suffering in your worry for the students. And you thought you wouldn’t make a good teacher.” Sothis tried to project humor, but it fell flat to both their ears. “I confess I do not know what to do. I do not believe a mortal has ever traveled against the flow of time as you have. A healer would do you little good, as your body is whole. You must find a way to unburden your mind.”

“I can’t forget what that felt like.”

“No, nor would I ask you to. That memory will remind you to protect yourself. But you can release its hold over you.”

“How? It’s not like I can talk to anyone about this.”

“Am I no one to you? But I see your point. You must simply find someone you can trust enough to reveal your greatest secret.”  
  
Byleth laughed with no humor. _Sure, that’ll be easy._

Sothis gave her a pained smile, and Byleth realized that if this girl existed somehow in her mind, then she must have felt every second of that pain as well. She began to apologize, but Sothis held up a hand, stopping her mid sentence.

“I cannot know why or how we came to be linked, but it is through you that I am able to see this world again. I would not give that up, no matter how much pain it causes me. For now, our greater concern is finding a way to stop that pain. Your mind is trying to convince your body that it is dying. In time, it might perhaps realize that this is no longer the case. Until then, you must find someone you can trust to hear your secret, so that you might lighten the weight on your shoulders. Talking to a healer couldn’t hurt, either.”

Byleth nodded. She knew who she would want to tell her secret, but not if they would be willing to hear it, much less believe her. “I was going to talk to Hanneman before this happened. After I see him, I could visit Manuela as well and ask for help containing the pain, should this happen again.”

“That is a sound idea. Blocking the pain is not as good as removing it, but for now it may be our best option. Go forth. I will be here should you need me. You are not alone, Byleth.”

The professor closed her eyes and nodded. When they reopened, she found herself back in her room, her pillow wet with tears. Standing, she carefully stretched her back, ready for the pain to come crashing back down. But her muscles moved as if they were perfectly healthy, which of course they were.

She changed out of her damp training gear and into her professor’s uniform: a modified version of the academy uniform the students wore. It was time to face her peers.

Finding Hanneman’s office/laboratory was not as difficult as she had feared. It seemed that the professors kept their offices near Rhea’s audience chamber. She wondered when she would be assigned one. She could hear her father’s voice coming from one of the rooms down the hall, and thought that it made sense for the Captain of the Knights to be stationed near the archbishop. She would visit him if she had time after meeting with the other two professors, though the day had already been long.

She knocked on the heavy wooden door to Hanneman’s office, and it swung open to reveal the older man still wearing the same clothes as when they had first met. His office was cramped, the walls filled with all manner of books and scientific instruments. His desk was pushed into the corner as if it were an afterthought, and the center of the room was commanded by a strange circular device. Byleth had never seen it’s like.

The older professor seemed much more excited to see her than Byleth was to be here. “Ah, our newest professor! I’m so glad you could make it. I simply must determine whether the power of a Crest resides within you.Won’t hurt a bit. Promise.”

“Professor Hanneman, I--”

“Please, just call me Hanneman. We are colleagues, after all!”

“Hanneman. I didn’t grow up with a formal education or dining with nobles. All I know of Crests are what lies in legends about Fodlan’s past.”

  
“Well, in that case, allow me to tell you everything--absolutely everything--about them. Is your calendar clear? This will take a while. Crests are a fascinating topic, but before one can dive deeply into said topic--”

“Goddess, please, stop. You sound like you’re reading a textbook and my head already hurts. Why do you think I have a Crest, and what would it mean if I did? That’s all I need, or want, to know.” 

Hanneman looked put out by this, but quickly brightened as he explained his theory. “Your reputation as a mercenary precedes you. After all, it’s not just any wandering warrior who can earn a nickname like ‘The Ashen Demon.’”

Byleth frowned. She hated that name. It made her sound like a monster, and all because she fought without emotion. She couldn’t understand how people did it any other way; if she wasn’t in that blank space when she had to kill someone, she would never make it out of the fight. Hanneman didn’t seem to notice her unease.

“I theorize that your fighting prowess, in addition to years of training, of course, is due to a Crest that lies in your blood. You may know that many of history’s greatest warriors had Crests, but you may not know how that benefited them. You see, Crests were said to have been bestowed upon humans by the goddess countless ages ago.” He was back to speaking in a monotonous tone, and Byleth felt bad for the Blue Lions who had to endure this on a daily basis from their teacher.

“The are passed through bloodlines, and are the originators of Fodlan’s noble houses centuries ago. Not everyone in the family will exhibit a Crest, but they are only passed through the blood. Each Crest conveys a different boon, from excelling at magic, to possess incredible physical strength, or even healing oneself in battle.”

Her head was spinning from absorbing far too much information at once, but she managed to parse through the impromptu lecture to see the important parts. “You believe I have a Crest.” It wasn’t a question; Hanneman wouldn’t have asked her here otherwise.

“I suspect as much, yes. But we won’t know for sure unless I look into the matter. If you do possess a Crest, it would only deepen the mystery around your parentage.”

Byleth looked at him sharply. “There is no mystery. Jeralt is my father.”  
  
“Yes, but who is your mother? And who are their mothers and fathers? Tracing a family is no small task, but if you bear a Crest it would mean at some point your family was connected to the nobility.”

“I see. What would you need to find out?” She didn’t care if her great great great grandfather had been a noble, but if this could help her learn who her mother was, she would pursue it. Jeralt had never told her, and she had never asked, but she had always wanted to know.

“Simply hold your arm over this device, and we shall have our answer.”

_One of them. I have more questions at this point than could ever be answered._

She raised her right arm and held it over the mysterious device. Hanneman fiddled with something on its side, and Byleth felt a strange tingling sensation run from her hand to her shoulder. It faded before she could yank her arm away, and the glass surface of the device lit up with a strange pattern, unlike any of the famous Crests she had seen drawn in her fantasy books as a young girl.

“What is this? A pattern I’ve never seen before! Is it possible an as yet undiscovered Crest has been detected? How thrilling!” Hanneman cleared his throat. “Pardon my unrestrained jubilation. I have much to consider. You may leave now.” He turned away from Byleth and started pulling books off his shelves. “What could this line be indicating? Perhaps it represents a lack of symmetry...or perhaps...what in the world? Oh, I see...it may be connected to that, but to a greater degree than usual…”

He gave no sign that their conversation would continue, so Byleth let herself out of his office and crossed the hallway to Manuela’s infirmary, her head spinning again. She had a Crest, but the Crest scholar didn’t recognize it? Was it her mother’s, or her father’s? Her meeting with Hanneman had left her with more questions than answers.

Manuela looked up as she entered the infirmary, and a smile graced her face when she saw Byleth. “Byleth! This is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for our newest professor?”

A silent battle raged inside Byleth as she debated how much to tell the older woman. “I was wondering if I might talk to you about medicine.”

“Certainly! I didn’t know you were interested in the healing arts.”  
  
“Only so much as I need them, I’m afraid. I haven’t the education for anything else.”

Manuela’s shrewd gaze met Byleth’s eyes in a keen stare. “And do you need them, Professor? It was my understanding that our little mock battle won’t be happening for a few more days.”

Byleth fidgeted, which was unusual for her, but this whole situation was unusual. “Do you know anything about wounds still causing pain after they’ve healed?” She’d certainly had plenty of minor wounds over the years; she wasn’t outright lying. Yet.

“I’ve treated a few soldiers in my time who’ve lost hands or even limbs. They often talk of phantom pains lingering after the wound itself has closed. But you seem to be in one piece.” Her gaze traveled up and down Byleth’s body, but she was too nervous about her secret being possibly exposed to be embarrassed. 

“I’m all here for now, but an old wound in my back has been giving me some trouble lately.”

“I see. How bad are these pains?”

_Enough to leave me curled in a ball for an hour._ “More an inconvenience than anything.”

“And when did you suffer this wound?”

_Technically, I didn’t._ “A year or so ago, on a job with my father.”

“And finally, how severe was the wound at the time?”

_It killed me._ “It only needed a few stitches.” Byleth hated lying; she’d always tried to conduct herself honorably. Manuela, however, was not someone she could trust with the full truth.

“Well, this would certainly be the most minor injury I’ve ever seen to cause phantom pain, but I suppose trauma is trauma. I can give you a list of some mental exercises you can try when the pain flares up, to help convince your mind that your body is fine. Other than that, I’m afraid these things just take time. There isn’t a physical injury we can treat with a spell or a poultice. But that doesn’t mean the pain isn’t real.”

Byleth almost sagged in relief. “The exercises sound perfect, thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll have the list delivered to your quarters as soon as it’s ready. And should you be injured in our mock battle, I am more than capable of healing you. You won’t even have a scar.”

_Some scars lie under the surface._ “Thank you, Manuela. I don’t suppose you know how to treat nightmares, as well?”

The physician looked at the young professor, too young for the types of trauma she was describing. “I can give you a sleeping drought if they’re consistently stopping you from sleeping. But if you’re having nightmares and phantom pains from the same trauma, it means your brain hasn’t healed from it. You’re suffering from emotional harm as much as physical, if not more.”

“Emotional harm? I’ve spent most of my life in battle. Getting your feelings hurt is something for a raw trainee.”

“Anyone who has feelings can have those feelings hurt, but either way, that's not what this is. I’m talking about deep seated trauma. Emotional scarring, if you will.”

Byleth looked at her skeptically. She’d never known that could happen, but her education consisted of sword lessons with Jeralt and whatever books she could scrounge up on their travels.

“And if I do have this...emotional scarring...what do I do?”

“There’s not much you can do, if that’s the case. There’s no spell I know of that could help here. The best thing I can recommend is to talk. Your mind is carrying painful memories and holding them too close to the surface. Talking to someone about whatever caused this trauma could help you move past it, but it likely won’t be easy or entirely too pleasant.”

Byleth shook her head, smiling despite herself. How strange that a young girl she wasn’t entirely convinced wasn’t a figment of her imagination and this learned doctor would have the same advice? If only she had someone to talk to.

Manuela seemed to read her mind. “If you haven’t yet found someone around the monastery you’d feel comfortable sharing those stories with, my door is always open.”

Byleth bowed her head, but she knew it wasn’t safe to tell this woman her story. Not when she barely knew her, and didn’t even know what to make of the story herself. “Thank you for the offer, Manuela, but I think for now I have some thinking to do by myself.”

“I understand. I’ll have the list of exercises and a bottle of sleeping draught delivered to your quarters. And feel free to drop by to talk about other things.” The somber moment was over, the flirting personality had appeared. Byleth smiled; she was beginning to learn Manuela didn’t necessarily mean anything by her flirting.

“Farewell, doctor. I need to get some rest.”

“Goodnight, Byleth.”

It was dark by the time she returned to her quarters, and her mailbox was empty. She supposed the time it took her to walk here was entirely too short for Manuela to have gathered the requested items and have them delivered, but the logic was of little comfort as she contemplated another morning like the one she’d had today.

Her nerves didn’t erase the need for rest. If every day at the monastery was this long, she wouldn’t need the sleeping draught after all. Had it only been this morning that she had chosen to lead the Eagles? Mind and body drained from the long day, she quickly slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

~~~

When she woke the next morning with no pain in her back, she nearly wept with relief. The sun warmed the room through her window; it was midmorning. She dressed in another professor’s uniform, this time attaching a fine cloak to the shoulders. 

As she left her room, she noticed Manuela had made the requested delivery, and she backtracked to store the list of exercises and the sleeping draught safely in her room. On her second time leaving, she noticed a bulletin board on the wall between her quarters and the students dormitories to her right.

Various people around the monastery had pinned requests to the board. A Blue Lion student named Dedue wanted someone to plant a few vegetables in the greenhouse to improve the variety of meals in the dining hall, and Flayn wanted someone to catch her a fish to use in a ritual. 

The mock battle was tomorrow, and lectures wouldn’t start till after that, so Byleth had plenty of time to run errands and explore the monastery. She knew from experience that training right until the last minute was more a detriment than a boon. The mock battle would be to set a baseline for her students’ skills rather than to demonstrate any improvement. 

Her first stop was the monastery greenhouse, since that was nearest to the dormitories. The gardener was a kindly young woman who was thrilled that one of the professors was taking an interest.

“Some of the students help out sometimes, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the other teachers here.”

While she’d never gardened before due to always being on the road, Byleth found that the simple, repetitive work of planting Dedue’s vegetable seeds was rather soothing. While she doubted she could ever manage the complexity of caring for the entire greenhouse, she vowed to come back here to relax amongst the plants in the future.

The fishing pond was close by, and she found that Flayn had left a special bait for whoever picked up her request. This was something she had plenty of experience with, though in the past she had fished for food and not for whatever Flayn wanted with it. Still, the motions of baiting her hook and casting it into the pond were familiar, and she soon found a rhythm that soothed her as much as the gardening had. Perhaps there was something to be said for this job, after all.

After she caught the fish Flayn had requested, she climbed the stone stairs to the monastery dining hall. It was peak lunchtime, and the hall was crowded with students, knights, and Church priests. On her way to the serving counter, she was approached by a short ginger girl from the Blue Lions, whom she recognized as the mage, Annette. 

“Hi Professor! I’m trying to figure out everyone’s likes and dislikes, so I know what to cook. Who knows when it’ll be my turn at kitchen duty?” The girl practically bounced as she spoke, the curls at the ends of her hair bobbing. “Do you prefer sweet or spicy food, Professor?”

“I do like spicy food; it can warm you up on a cold night in a tent. But I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth. Especially since sweets weren’t something we’d normally pick up when we restocked provisions.”

Annette laughed. “Professor, saying you like both isn’t a very helpful answer. But I love sweet food too, so whenever I have cooking duty I’ll save a snack for you.”

She ran off to enquire about the other diners’ culinary tastes and Byleth shook her head with a smile. After grabbing a tray piled high with fish skewers and baked potatoes, she looked around the crowded hall for a place to sit.

She caught sight of Bernadetta sitting next to Petra, and the latter waved her over. “Hello, Professor! We are having a wonderful meal. Would you like to be joining us?”

Bernadetta studiously avoided eye contact. Byleth decided this would be a good time to foster camaraderie between her two archers, and then told herself to stop treating these kids like mercenaries and let them be students for a bit. 

She plunked her tray down on the table and gave a dramatic sigh, which drew a slight giggle from Bernadetta. “You would not believe how much running around you have to do as a professor.”

The three girls ate their lunch in companionable silence, until Bernadetta stood up. “I have to go, but it was nice eating with you, Professor!” Her voice only quavered a little, and Byleth felt an unfamiliar rush of pride. She was used to feeling good when she taught someone a new fighting move, but she hadn’t realized she would get the same feeling for helping people in other areas as well. 

The afternoon passed quickly, with Byleth having nothing pressing to take care of before tomorrow’s mock battle against the Lions and the Deer. She went to the training grounds again and worked her way through a series of sword forms. One of the Blue Lions, a stern looking boy she didn’t recognize leaned against a pillar and watched her, smirking. 

She ignored him and continued her training until the boy stepped in front of her, heedless of the typical boundaries given to one immersed in their training. “Greetings, Professor.” His tone carried none of the warmth of the students she’d met so far, and he put a mocking emphasis on her title. “I hear you’re a proficient swordsman. Duel me.”

“Are you serious? You intrude on my space, you barely disguise your hostility, and you think you have the right to demand a duel? I don’t even know your name.”

His eyes narrowed. “Felix Fraldarius. I’m the best swordsman at the academy. If you think you’re better, duel me.”

Byleth sheathed her steel sword; she didn’t train with a wooden weapon, needing to retain a feel for the weight of a real sword. “Find me on the battlefield tomorrow, and you can have your duel. If you want to train with me in my free time, you’ll have to be a great deal more polite.”

She pushed past Felix and left the training grounds, still smarting with irritation. _I thought nobles were supposed to be obsessed with politeness._

Her last stop for the day was her father’s office, on the second floor of the main building, in the same hallway as Manuela and Hanneman’s offices. _For a complex this large, everything seems to be in one place._

Jeralt was sitting at a large desk in the center of the room, his armor displayed on a mannequin in the corner. 

“Byleth! By the goddess, it’s good to see you. They’ve kept you busy so far, eh?”

“You have no idea. I’m almost looking forward to lectures after the mock battle, just so everyone will be in one place.”  
  
“Never in my wildest dreams did I think you would end up a teacher.”

“I haven’t ended up anywhere yet. I’ve got a few more years left in me than you do, old man.” Jeralt smiled at the barb. As long as he could still knock the sword out of his daughter’s hand, he wouldn’t consider himself old. He hadn’t failed yet.

His smile faded as he glanced around at their surroundings. “The Church has changed a lot since my time. Seteth, Hanneman, Manuela, Jeritza, and many of the knights...none of them were here twenty years ago.”  
  
“Jeritza?” The name didn’t sound familiar, but she had met so many people over the last few days. 

“He’s one of the combat instructors for students who haven’t joined a house yet. Always wears that mask. Say, have you met Leonie yet? She’s in the Golden Deer. Apparently it was my influence that inspired her to leave her village. I know she’s not in your house, but could you watch over her for me? She’s the only apprentice I’ve ever had.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow and her father laughed. “You don’t count, you know that.”  
  
“I know, just wanted to make sure you did. I’ll do my best to watch over her, but there’s not a whole lot I can do once Manuela starts taking them out of the monastery on missions.”

“I know. Just try to talk to her if you get a chance, she could learn a lot from you.”  
  
Byleth nodded and wondered when she’d have time to get to know students who weren’t even her responsibility. Then she wondered if she’d have to fight the girl she just promised to look after.

“Will you be at the mock battle tomorrow?” She tried to hide the nerves from her voice, but her father knew her too well.

“I’m actually in charge of overseeing it. I’ll be declaring the winner and making sure fights stop when someone yields. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. And if you run into Leonie, beating her in a duel will actually make her like you more than just about anything else. She picked that up from me, I’m afraid.”

Just how close were her father and this girl? He had never mentioned her to Byleth in all their travels, but he also never talked about her mother. She resolved to find time to talk to the Golden Deer student as soon as possible and hear her side of things.

She left her father’s office feeling refreshed, having established at least one part of the monastery that felt like home. The walk back to her quarters was a peaceful one. Most of the students were already in their dormitories, getting rest for tomorrow’s competition. 

When she arrived at the small room that had become her sanctuary, she sat on her bed and closed her eyes.

_Sothis? Are you there?_

_“I’m here, Byleth. It’s getting easier to reach you. I must confess it is nice to hear your voice.”_

_But I’m not speaking aloud._

Sothis laughed, a musical sound that filled Byleth’s head with warm contentment. _“Your thoughts still bear your voice. We are one, your emotions color your mind.”_

_I will never get used to this._

_“Then don’t. Whatever our bond may be, it is special.”_

_How do I know you’re real?_

_“Ah. You wish to be reassured that you are not losing your mind. I’m afraid I have no proof to offer. You will have to take it on faith that I am here to guide you.”_

Byleth had never been much for faith. She believed in the mysterious goddess that was said to watch over Fodlan, but she invoked her more often in curses than prayer. She laid back on her pillow and had to admit that Sothis’ presence was a strange sort of comfort.

_Sothis?_

_“Hm?"_

_I don’t want to go to sleep._

_“Your students will need you tomorrow, and you will need your rest to see them through the coming battle. Sleep, my brave warrior. I will watch over your dreams tonight.”_

As soon as the words echoed through her mind, accompanied by a wash of peaceful warmth, Byleth felt her eyelids growing heavy. She slept soundly and deeply, the sleeping drought resting forgotten on her windowsill.

~~~

Byleth woke to find herself rested and alone in her mind. The loss of Sothis’ company pained her briefly, and was momentarily concerned at how quickly she had come to rely on the strange girl. Pushing the thought from her mind for the moment, she rolled out of bed and tentatively stretched her back. Though there was no pain, the recent incident in the training grounds made her nervous about the mock battle. She would have to take care to protect her back

She glanced at her professor’s uniform hanging on the hook attached to her door, and ignored it in favor of her old mercenary armor. If this mock battle was intended to simulate the real thing, she would dress the part. 

After a quick breakfast in the dining hall, she went in search of Edelgard to talk strategy for the battle. She found the princess in the reception hall, and quickly made her way over to the house leader.

“So, it is finally time for the mock battle.” Edelgard’s face was set, and she looked as if she were about to embark on a real campaign rather than a practice battle against her classmates. “This is my chance to measure your worth as an instructor. Do you think you can rise to the challenge?”

Her voice held none of the teasing humor it had carried when she first introduced Byleth to the Eagles. This was Edelgard the soldier, the girl she had met outside Remire. For the first time, Byleth saw her as the woman who would sit the throne of an entire Empire, and felt sad that Edelgard had to spend her childhood under such crushing weight.

“Leave it to me. The other houses don’t stand a chance.”

Edelgard cocked her head curiously, then nodded. “So confident. This will be interesting. Each of us has undergone strict training. We’re prepared for anything that comes our way. There’s no need to hold back. Show us what you’re capable of.”

Before Byleth could remark that Edelgard had already seen her in full battle mode, she heard Claude’s ringing voice signal the end to their private conversation.

“Hey there! Did we miss our invite to this strategy meeting? No worries, we’ll just join in now.”

Edelgard shook her head, clearly not in the mood for Claude’s shenanigans. “Simply tell me your weaknesses, and you’re welcome to stay. But is there enough time to cover them all?”

“Ah, so you can’t win unless you know my weakness? Poor princess. You really should believe in yourself more.”  
  
Byleth almost spoke up in defense of her house leader, but Edelgard had the situation well in hand. “I spare no effort when pursuing victory. As a master of petty schemes, I should think you would understand.”

“Schemes? Me? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I plan to fight fair and square, as ever.”

Dimitri broke in. “Hearing the words ‘fair and square’ from Claude can only be a bad omen.”

If the Golden Deer house leader was uncomfortable with the royals ganging up on him, his relaxed posture didn’t show it. “Your Highnesses haven’t known me for very long, but you already have me figured out, don’t you?”  
  
“No need to poke fun.” Dimitri’s voice sobered. “I will fight with honor. That said, I will fight to win.”   
  
“Yes, and the same is true of us,” Edelgard said. “Right, professor?”

Byleth was of the opinion that honor was for before and after a battle, and that a warrior should use every asset available in order to win a fight. She looked at the house leaders and gave a rare grin.

“We won’t lose.”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “If that is how you feel, then I will not hold back.”

“Good. You wouldn’t last a minute if you did.”

She was saved from a rebuttal by the arrival of Manuela and Hanneman. 

“Aw, how precious.” Manuela’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Looks like you and the students have become fast friends.”

Hanneman scoffed. “While I am pleased that you are taking the initiative to acquaint yourself with the students, I’m afraid it’s about time for the faculty strategy meeting.”  
  
“Ah, how time flies,” Claude said. “In that case, I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful out there,” Dimitri said.

“Don’t worry, Professor. I’ll have the Eagles ready and waiting on the practice field.” Edelgard followed the other house leaders out of the reception hall, and Byleth couldn’t help but feel she had more in common with the students than she did with her colleagues. This was going to be a long meeting.

~~~

Byleth left the faculty meeting fuming and more than ready to hit her colleagues with her practice sword. The battlefield for the mock battle would contain a small grove of trees and two defendable stone emplacements. Her house would have access to neither of them, and would have to cross the forest to meet the Golden Deer.

She had raised several complaints about the unbalanced starting positions, but her colleagues had rebuffed her with irritating sincerity, claiming that a seasoned mercenary should have no trouble against the less experienced faculty.

On top of the poor positioning, she would only be allowed to bring four of her students with her into the battle. At least that was a limit imposed on all three houses. Her choices were easy; she couldn’t go into this fight without her house leader, and wherever Edeglard went, Hubert followed. Ferdinand would have to be deployed as her only lancer, and that left one spot.

She didn’t feel a need to bring a healer into this fight, since they would only be using practice weapons. She already had an offensive mage in Hubert, which left the final choice down to which of her two archers she would bring. In the end, she decided that Petra had more practical experience than Bernadetta, and so the shyer girl would fight in today’s battle.

Bernadetta had of course taken this news rather poorly, leading to an interesting experience as Byleth tried to console her in a temporary bathroom set up near the practice field. Eventually, after many promises that she would be kept to the rear of the fight, Bernadetta took her place with the rest of the chosen Eagles. Caspar, Linhardt, Petra, and Dorothea would be watching from the observation platform built nearby, along with Rhea, Seteth, and Jeralt.

As her house readied their weapons, Byleth gazed across the field at the Golden Deer and Blue Lions fighters. Claude had chosen a lancer named Lorenz, an archer named Ignatz, and an axe wielder named Hilda to accompany himself and Manuela. They were positioned in the forest ahead of the Eagles, deep in the protective cover of the trees.

Dimitri had taken an archer named Ashe, a healer named Mercedes, and Dedue with him, alongside Hanneman. They were positioned in one of the two stone fortifications.

Byleth knew that attacking either one would be difficult with her inexperienced squad of students, but they also couldn’t afford to wait in the open for the opposition to come to them. 

“Edelgard, as soon as the starting horn blows, I need you and Ferdinand to rush Ashe. If you can overpower him quickly, you’ll have a clear shot at Dimitri and Dedue.”

The princess nodded, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I will prove once and for all that I am stronger than Dimitri.”  
  
“I believe I should accompany Lady Edelgard.” Hubert’s voice dripped with barely concealed distaste.

“No, I need you and Bernadetta to watch my back as I charge Claude.”

“It’s alright, Hubert. I’ll be fine.” The mage gave her a short bow, and Byleth frowned. It would be a problem in the future if he listened to Edelgard over her. For now, her bigger worry was getting her students out of this open ground.

When one of the Knights of Seiros blew the starting horn, she waited only long enough to ensure that Edelgard and Ferdinand had begun their push towards the Blue Lions before drawing her wooden sword and rushing towards the forest hiding the Golden Deer.

As she approached the treeline, she risked a glance behind her and was relieved to see Bernadetta and Hubert on her heels, the former with an arrow nocked to her bow and the latter with a fistfull of dark magic. 

Claude’s lancer, the thin boy named Lorenz, stepped out of the trees to meet her. “None of your shallow tactics are required, Claude,” he called over his shoulder. “Ignatz and I will dismantle the opposition.”

“Me? But I’m not ready!” The shorter boy fumbled to ready his bow, and Byleth knew she could forget about him for now. She charged Lorenz, trying to get inside the longer reach of his lance before he could swing. 

She couldn’t quite close the gap in time, but Lorenz’s strike was sloppy, and she managed to slide under it on her knees, popping back to her feet in time to knock the lance from his hands with a sharp slap to his wrist. She tapped the point of her practice sword against his chest.

“I must admit, Professor, I underestimated you. Perhaps a mercenary can stand against a noble after all. I yield.”

Byleth shook her head; she had been at the monastery for less than two weeks and was already tired of stuck up nobles. Claude’s voice rang out from the forest, and she refocused her attention. 

“Well done, Teach. I may have to take this seriously after all.”

She glanced at Ignatz, pleased to see that Hubert and Bernadetta had taken him down while she was disarming Lorenz. She fought against the rush of adrenaline, knowing if she gave in to her tunnel vision her students would have no source of instructions. 

“Bernadetta, I need you to duel Claude.”  
  
“You want me to what!?”

“You only need to distract him while I take out Hilda. You can do this.” She didn’t give her archer time to argue, knowing she would either succeed or Hubert would take care of it. She danced towards the pink-haired axe wielder. Byleth’s blank stare met Hilda’s manic one. 

The first clash of their training weapons nearly disarmed her. This girl was strong! Stronger than Caspar, even. Byleth stayed light on the balls of her feet, and practically skipped around her opponent, looking for an opening. Each time she blocked one of Hilda’s strikes, the vibrations traveling up her sword numbed her arms. She needed to finish this quickly.

As Hilda raised her axe for an overhand blow, Byleth saw her chance. Taking a risk she would never consider in a real battle, she dashed under the blow and slashed up at Hilda’s exposed chest. Her axe bounced off Byleth’s shoulder, leaving a bruise that would stiffen her arm by tomorrow morning. Had the axe been real, it would have cut deep into the bone and she may have lost the arm.

Instead, Hilda found herself staring at the point of a sword and into the eyes of a battle-focused Byleth. She dropped her axe and gave the professor a curtsy before sitting down next to Ignatz and Lorenz. That left only Claude and Manuela, and the Golden Deer would be defeated.

She looked back to see how Bernadetta and Hubert were faring, and nearly dropped her sword at the sight of Bernadetta sitting on the edge of the field with tears in her eyes. She had known that some of her students would yield; this was only a practice battle. So why did seeing Bernadetta like that hurt so much? _Because you care,_ a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She couldn’t tell if it was herself or Sothis.

She glanced back at Hubert, and he simply stared at her. Her focus completely thrown, she barely saw Claude fire an arrow at her. Moving on pure instinct with a speed that surprised even herself, her sword blurred forward and knocked the arrow out of the air. She faced Claude, panting. He grinned at her and nocked another arrow.

“Pretty impressive, Teach. Wanna bet you can’t do it again?”

Without taking her eyes off of Claude, she waved Hubert forward to engage Manuela in a magic duel. Claude’s grin never faded as he drew and released the arrow, forcing Byleth to dive to the ground. She scrambled to her feet in time to see Claude drawing his last arrow back. If she could avoid this shot, he’d be finished. If it landed, the Eagles would be down their professor. 

Byleth knew Claude was too good of a shot to miss an already off balance enemy, and so she did something else she would never attempt in a real battle. She threw her sword. Claude’s smirk finally vanished as he ducked to avoid the clumsy throw, the arrow slipping off his bowstring and landing in the dirt. 

Byleth charged, shouldering past a weak blow from Claude’s bow, and punched him in the face. 

“Shit!” She hadn’t been in a proper fistfight in too long, and had forgotten how much it hurt to hit someone on the cheekbone. Claude dropped to a knee and held his hands up in front of his face.

“Alright, alright! I yield. Didn’t expect you to hit that hard, Teach. Go for something other than the face next time, would ya?” He winked at her through the black eye that was already forming, and took his seat next to his classmates. A quick check confirmed that Hubert had dispatched Manuela. The Golden Deer were out of the mock battle. 

While Byleth had been fighting Claude and his classmates, Edelgard and Ferdinand had been locked in a battle of their own against Dimitri and the Blue Lions.

They had dealt with Ashe easily enough; Dimitri shouldn’t have left his archer on the front lines. But with Mercedes boosting Dedue’s strength, it had taken both Edelgard and Ferdinand’s combined efforts to dispatch the axe wielder, and Dimitri had taken the opportunity to strike Ferdinand in the back with his wooden lance. Edelgard was now on her own against Dimitri, Mercedes, and Hanneman. 

As Byleth and Hubert raced out of the forest to assist, she took in the situation and immediately gestured for Hubert to deal with Mercedes. She charged Dimitri, narrowly blocking a strike that would have ended the fight for Edelgard.

_Goddess, he’s so strong!_ Dimitri’s lithe frame belied a strength greater than any Byleth had ever fought. She was amazed their wooden weapons weren’t splintering under the onslaught. She caught Dimitri’s eye and flinched. The boy in front of her was not the cool, collected leader of the Blue Lions she had met. This was a manic, unrestrained fighter. 

Dimitri laughed as he fought both her and Edelgard, sounding more angry than happy. Even two against one, they were having a hard time finding an opening. As Byleth dodged out of the way of another monstrous strike from Dimitri, she caught Edelgard’s eyes and saw they were tense with pain. She must have taken a hit earlier in the battle and refused to yield.

In a battle that had already been full of foolish ideas, perhaps the most foolish one of all sprung into Byleth’s mind. The next time Dimitri swung his lance, she stepped into it rather than away from it. The wooden blade crashed against her ribs, and her chest was suddenly on fire. As she collapsed from the difficulty she was having drawing air into her lungs, she saw Dimitri holding the splintered end of his training lance and staring at her in shock.

Her vision blurred, and when it came back she saw Edelgard holding her axe against Dimitri’s neck Behind him she could see Hubert had obtained Hanneman’s surrender as well.

_That’s it. We won. Goddess, this hurts._

“Professor? Byleth!” Her vision must have grayed out again, she didn’t remember Edelgard being next to her. “Byleth, say something, please!” Why did Edelgard sound so worried? It was only a training lance. Her head was lifted gently into Edelgard’s lap and she stared up into lilac eyes wider than she had ever seen them.

She struggled for breath and felt a strange wetness on her chest. She looked down and saw that her side was slick with blood. A shard from Dimitri’s lance had buried itself in her ribs when it had shattered. 

“That’s bad.” Her voice was a croak, and she coughed. The fire surged across her chest and up her throat, and she tasted blood.

“Manuela and the other healers are on their way. Hold on, my teacher. Hold on, Byleth.”

_“Oh, my brave warrior, what a mess you’ve gotten us into now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And for those of you who commented on chapter one, you made my day. I'm going to start chapter three the same night this goes up, so hopefully the wait wont be too long <3
> 
> Twitter: @WasGay_DidCrime  
> Come say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! This is the first fic I've ever uploaded to AO3 and I'm so so excited! Much love to my beta, [CelestialSilences ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialSilences/pseuds/CelestialSilences/works)  
> Byleth will recruit from the other houses, but she won't poach everyone, because that would make the second half pretty boring. Please comment and let me know what you think! Next chapter will be up in the near future <3


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